


Trading Places

by Willa_Owl



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:54:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5794147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willa_Owl/pseuds/Willa_Owl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in prison is complicated. Then there's life outside prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you may recognise this first chapter. I posted a similar version of it a few months ago but decided to tweak a few things and start afresh. Thank you for reading.

“Franky! Franky! You’re late. Come on.”

Franky heard a soft resistant grunt and realised it came from herself. Outside it was cold and dark. She wriggled deeper into the bunched-up doona, closed her eyes in a squint against the dim glimmers of winter light.

“Up, Franky.”

Bridget smelt of body wash. She was tucking her well-tailored shirt into her fitted slacks. Another day. It’s the little habits rather than the big decisions that make you into a real couple. You drift into routines, inhabit complementary domestic roles without deciding to. Bridget and Franky had become the world trivia experts on each other. Franky knew that Bridget liked more milk in coffee than in tea, Bridget knew that Franky liked a drop of milk in coffee and none at all in tea. Franky could locate the hard knot that formed hear Bridget’s left shoulder-blade after long days at work. Franky didn’t put fruit in salads because of Bridget and Bridget didn’t put cheese in salads because of Franky. They had shaken down into a real couple.

Franky had never lived with a woman before - well technically she had lived with many women, but none with whom she was having a proper relationship - and she found the experience of assuming household roles interesting. Bridget was not surprised to discover that Franky was quite the tradesman and was limitlessly capable with all the wires and pipes being the walls and under the floors. Bridget changed the sheets on the bed and emptied the sliding-bin in the kitchen. Franky fixed the vacuum cleaner but Bridget used it. Bridget cleaned the bathroom and shower.

One odd thing was that Franky did all the ironing. Bridget assumed that Franky would not want to go near anything laundry-related after her myriad negative experiences in the laundry at Wentworth, but Franky found ironing shirts therapeutic. Bridget would have insisted she do her own shirts but it’s hard to argue with someone as you lie watching TV with a drink while they do the ironing. Bridget bought the paper and Franky read it over her shoulder which Bridget found irritating but endearing. They both shopped, although Bridget always took a list and ticked everything off, while Franky was more haphazard. Franky defrosted the freezer. Bridget watered the plants. And she brought Franky a cup of coffee in bed every morning.

“You’re late,” Bridget said. “Here’s your coffee and I’m leaving in exactly there minutes.”

“I hate August,” Franky said.

“You said that about July.”

“August is like July. But colder.”

But Bridget had left the room. Franky showered hurriedly and put on a trouser suit, along with a coat that came down to her knees to combat the cold weather. She brushed her hair and tied it into a ponytail.

“You look smart” said Bridget, as Franky came into the kitchen. “Is that coat new?”

“Yeah, bought it the other day,” Franky said casually, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

They walked to the train station together, sharing an umbrella and dodging puddles. Franky kissed Bridget at the turnstile and put the umbrella under her arm.

“Goodbye, darling,” Bridget said, and Franky thought at that moment, she wants us to be married. She wants us to be a married couple. With her mind on that arresting idea, Franky forgot to say anything back. Bridget didn’t notice and strode confidently toward her train. She didn’t look back. It was almost if they were married already.

Franky didn’t want to go to work. She felt physically incapable of it. The previous evening she’d been out late with Bridget for a meal. They hadn’t got in until after midnight and hadn’t got to bed until one and then hadn’t actually got to sleep until maybe two thirty. It had been an anniversary - their fifth. They had decided on what date would be considered their anniversary in a roundabout way. Both of them knew if they tried they could work out the date that they first met, but given it was at Wentworth during a very difficult time in Franky’s life it didn’t seem appropriate to celebrate it. They could use the first time they slept together, which was the day Franky was released, but Bridget thought that should be a time for celebrating Franky’s freedom above anything else. Eventually they had decided on the day that they moved in together. 

Upon her release from Wentworth, Franky insisted on renting her own place. Nevertheless, she stayed at Bridget’s regularly. Bridget allocated Franky a drawer for knickers and bras. Then there was the odd shirt. Franky started leaving conditioner and eyeliner pencils in the bathroom. After a few weeks of that Franky noticed one day that she had purchased over half the items in Bridget’s pantry and fridge, courtesy of having cooked her girlfriend dinner so many times. 

One day Bridget asked Franky if there was any point in her paying rent at her place, since she was never there. Franky hemmed and hawed, worried, and didn’t come to any firm decision. Then one day in August - it was a cool Sunday afternoon and they were keeping themselves warm drinking whiskey in a pub in Richmond - Franky thought to herself that she never wanted to spend another night alone in her rented flat. Bridget’s house is where she wanted to live. So she told Bridget she was moving in and that day became their anniversary.

But after the celebration, there was the reckoning. If you don’t want to go to work but you want to do yourself justice or at least avoid having injustice done to you, make sure you look good and get there on time. These are not exactly the lawyers’ ten commandments, but on that dark morning when she couldn’t face anything but coffee, they seemed like a survival strategy. 

Franky was completing her articles of clerkship with Louise Flintoff at Jones and Flintoff, a midsize law firm situated in Collins St in the heart of Melbourne’s CBD. When Franky arrived at the office she went straight into a meeting with Louise and the other articled clerks at the firm. She deliberately sat with her back to the door so she could look out of the window which had a great view of Southbank and the Yarra River. She sat up straight, fixed an alert expression on her face and picked up a pen. The meeting began with references to recently settled cases and various droning routine matters. Franky doodled on her legal pad, then tried a sketch of Louise’s face. Then she tuned out and looked at a rowing crew that was making its way down the river. She wonder why the rowers weren’t at work or school. 

“And Franky…” Franky suddenly became aware of her surroundings, as if she had suddenly been disturbed from sleep. Louise had directed her attention to her and everybody had turned in her direction. “Great job on your brief for the Cartwright trial, your work was invaluable.”

“Thanks, Lou” Franky said with a slight sigh of relief that she didn’t have to actually answer a serious question. Franky winked cockily at another of the articled clerks, Julie, who was sitting beside her and looking upon her with envy. Julie and Franky were friends and both understood that the wink was meant teasingly rather than arrogantly.

By the close of the meeting Franky and not been assigned any urgent tasks and this allowed her the rest of the day to sit at her desk back at the office and do not very much. She spent an important half an hour clothes shopping online, buying a pair of neat ankle boots and a linen shirt. She also looked at the websites of various tattoo artists around Melbourne to see if anything interested her, even though she had not contemplated a new tattoo in a long time. 

Her reverie was interrupted by Julie suggesting they go for a drink after work at a nearby bar named The Vine. There were a few others also going, so Franky rang Bridget on her mobile and suggested she come to The Vine as well. No. She had a late session with a client. Franky's day was nearly done.

Julie was already there when Franky arrived, at a corner table with Sylvie and Clive, who also worked at Flintoff and Jones. Behind them were some wall plants. There was a vine motif at The Vine.

“Looking good, Franky,” Sylvie said with a laugh. “Hangover?”

“Yep,” Franky said loudly. “But I could do hangover cure anyway.” Franky poured herself a glass of red wine from the bottle that was sitting in the middle of the table.

Clive was talking about a woman he had met at Legal Aid Fundraiser the night before.

“She’s a very interesting woman,” Clive said.

“What does she look like?” Franky didn’t mince words.

“What do you mean?” 

“What does she look like?” Franky insisted.

Clive took a sip of his drink. “She was about the same height as you,” he said. “She has blonde hair, about shoulder length. She’s good looking, great legs, she had these amazing blue eyes.”

“No wonder you thought she was interesting. Did you ask her out?”

Clive looked indignant but a bit shifty as well. He loosened his tie. “Of course I didn’t.”

“You obviously wanted to.”

“You can’t just ask a girl out like that.”

“Of course you can,” Sylvie interrupted. “Ring her up. She sounds desirable to me.”

“Obviously she was attractive, But i can’t do that sort of thing. I need an excuse.”

“Do you know her name?” Franky asked.

“Her name’s Erica. Erica Davidson.”

Franky felt like her heart had stopped in her chest. That was not the name she was expecting to hear. In many ways she had hoped she would never hear it again. She had not thought of Erica for years, had blocked her out of her conscious as soon as she had found Bridget and with her, love and hope for a happy future. Franky had no interest in analysing why hearing Erica’s name had such a physical effect her. She sipped her Bloody Mary, hoping to maintain a cool demeanour. She immediately decided not to reveal that the object of Clive’s affections was someone she was already very familiar with.

“Call her up.” Julie suggested.

A look of alarm passed comically over Clive’s features. “What would I say?”

“It doesn’t matter what you say. If she liked you, then she’ll go out with you almost whatever you say. If she didn’t, then she won’t go out with you whatever you say.” Clive looked confused. Franky’s curiosity got the better of her.

“Are you sure she’s single?” she asked.

“Pretty sure. She didn’t have a date and there was no ring on her finger.”

Franky’s mind flashed back to all those years ago when she was stuck in the slot. The first time she had seen Erica’s engagement ring. Hearing that it was no longer on Erica’s finger did not surprise her but it did not lessen the pain she still felt when she thought about that moment. Again she re-focused on keeping her cool in front of her friends.

“Well just give her a call,” she said.

Clive looked aghast. “Just like that?”

“Shit yeah.”

“What should I ask her to?”

Franky laughed. “What do you want me to do? Fix you up with a room as well?”

Franky got up to get another bottle of wine. When she returned, the subject had changed to Sylvie’s latest trial win. Franky only half listened to her. She began thinking again about Erica, the thoughts she had not allowed herself to think for years. Where was she living? Where was she working? Did she know Franky had been released? Had she tried to make contact? The questions were endless. 

Franky lingered over the last of her drink, feeling fuzzy round the edges. She looked briefly at each of the friends she was sitting with. She felt lucky to have them. People she enjoyed spending time with and she knew would look out for her. Not only that, she had met them working at a law firm. Something that never would have happened without Erica’s encouragement. 

Eventually her mind wandered to Bridget. Her partner. Her rock. Her saviour. The only person she had ever fully trusted. She would be lost without her. Franky was hit with the sudden urge to be back at home in their house. She made her excuses and hailed a taxi from the street. On the drive home she resolved to block Erica from her mind once again. If Clive somehow managed to procure a date with the blonde and Franky had to hear about it she would deal with that if and when it happened. For now, she would concentrate on herself and her home.

When Franky got back to the house, Bridget opened the door as she put her key in the lock. She was already changed into jeans and a checked shirt.

“I thought you’d be late,” Franky said.

“The client cancelled,” Bridget said. “I’ve made dinner.”

Franky looked on the table. Spiced chicken. Taramasalata. Pita bread. A self-saucing pudding. A carton of cream. A bottle of wine. A DVD. 

“Looks perfect,” Franky said as she wrapped her arms around Bridget’s waist and kissed her.

“But you can forget the DVD, ‘cuz as soon as we’ve eaten I’m taking you upstairs and fucking you for the entire night.”

“What, again?” Bridget grinned and kissed her partner again. “I think I can handle that.”


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning, the train was more than usually crowded. Franky felt hot inside all her layers of clothing, and she tried to distract herself by thinking about other things as she swayed against the bodies and the train clattered along. She thought about how her hair needed cutting. Maybe she could book it for lunch-time. She tried to remember if there was enough food in the house for tonight, or maybe they could get takeaway. Or go dancing. 

Franky was glad to get out at her station, though she wasn’t looking forward to the day ahead. When she thought about work, a lethargy settled over her, as if all her limbs were heavy and the chambers of her brain musty. It was cold on the streets, and her breath curled into the air. All around her people were hurrying to their different offices, heads down. She and Bridget should go away somewhere, she thought, somewhere hot and deserted. Anywhere that wasn’t Melbourne. She imagined a white beach and a blue sky and she and Bridget slim and tanned in bikinis.

She stopped at the pedestrian crossing. A delivery truck roared by. Franky glimpsed the driver, high up in his cab and blind to all the people below him trudging to work. The next car squeaked to a halt and Franky stepped out into the road.

A woman was crossing from the other side. Franky noticed she was wearing a black skirt and stockings, some expensive looking pumps and a textured jacket. Then Franky looked up at the woman’s face. Franky didn't know if the woman stopped first or she did. They stood in the road looking at each other. Franky thought she heard a horn blare but she couldn’t move. It felt like an age, but it was probably only a second. There was an empty, hungry feeling in her stomach and she couldn’t breathe in properly. A horn was sounded once more. The woman’s blue eyes and straightened blonde hair were very familiar. 

It was Erica Davidson. A shocked expression on her face and her mouth slightly open as if she was trying to think of something to say. Before either spoke, Franky started walking across the road again, and so did Erica. They passed each other, inches away, their eyes locked. Franky turned to face forward again and eventually reached the pavement. 

She walked towards the building that contained the Flintoff and Jones offices and when she reached it she took a glance back. Erica was gone. So that was that.

Franky went at once to bathroom, shut herself into a cubicle and leaned against the door. There was a heavy feeling at the back of her eyes, like unshed tears. Franky closed her eyes as if that would somehow shut Erica out from her conscious once again. Someone else came into the bathroom, turned on a tap. Franky stood very still and quiet, and could hear her heart thudding beneath her chest.

After a few minutes she could breathe properly again. She splashed cold water on her face and checked her hair. She bought a coffee from the cafe in the foyer and a bar of chocolate, for she was suddenly ravenous, and made her way to her office. She picked the wrapper and the gold foil off the chocolate with shaky, incompetent fingers and ate it in large bites. The working day began. She read through her emails and deleted most of them, read over some briefs, then phoned Bridget at work.

“How’s your day going?’ Franky asked.

“It’s only just started.” Franky felt as if hours had passed since leaving home. “Last night was nice,” Bridget added, in a low voice. There were other people in the room with her.

“Mmm. I felt a bit weird this morning, though, Gidge.” 

“Are you all right now?” Bridget sounded concerned, Franky was never ill.

“Yep. Sweet,” _Come on Doyle, snap out of it. _"Totally sweet. Are you all right?”__

__Franky had run out of things to say but was reluctant to put the phone down. Bridget suddenly sounded preoccupied. Franky heard her say something she couldn’t make out to someone else._ _

__“Yes, love. Look, I’d better go. ‘Bye.”_ _

__The morning passed. Franky went to a staff meeting and checked in with Louise. She told Franky that she was going to court in the afternoon and didn’t need her assistance, but she gave her some filing jobs to complete. With Louise’s ok, Franky made an appointment at the hairdresser’s for one o’clock._ _

__Just before one Franky picked up her coat then clattered down the stairs and into the street. It was just beginning to drizzle, and she didn’t have an umbrella. She looked up at the clouds, shrugged, and started to walk quickly along Collins Street where she could pick up a taxi to the hairdresser’s. She stopped dead in her tracks and the world blurred._ _

__Erica was there, a few feet from her. Just standing and looking at Franky. Franky felt then as if no one had ever looked at her properly before and was suddenly and acutely conscious of herself - of the pounding of her heart, the rise and fall of her breath; of the surface of her body, which was prickling with a mix of both anger and excitement._ _

__Erica walked toward Franky and they stood opposite each other. Franky crossed her arms, waiting for Erica to explain her presence. Eventually the blonde said in a low and shaky voice, “Hi Franky. I’ve been waiting for you.”_ _

__Franky felt like laughing out loud. She could not believe the nerve of Erica, finding out where she worked - or had she followed her this morning? - and waiting outside her office for her despite not making contact for years. But she couldn’t laugh or smile. She couldn’t even yell at Erica for turning up unannounced and expecting her to be receptive. Franky could only go on looking at Erica, into her blue eyes, at her mouth, which was slightly parted, the tender lips. She looked more beautiful then ever. Franky tried to say something, but all that came out was a muffled “Oh.”_ _

__“Please,” Erica said, not taking her eyes off Franky’s face. “Can we talk?”_ _

__A couple of seconds passed but Franky felt like a million thoughts went through her head. Would it be easiest just to tell Erica to fuck off? Leave things between them unresolved? She could continue living her life as she had been since she was released, she was perfectly happy. On the other hand, seeing Erica again is something she had thought about so many times in the past. If she refused to talk with her would she forever wonder what Erica would have said? In the end, Franky didn’t give Erica a verbal response but simply gave a quick nod of assent. Erica gave a polite grin and went to begin walking, presumably to the nearest cafe, Franky thought._ _

__It was then that Franky’s instincts kicked in, particularly her instincts when it came to Erica Davidson. Franky was sure she knew what Erica had in mind. Order a couple of lattes, have a courteous conversation, assure herself that everything between them was copacetic, then go about the day with her conscience clear. The prospect of such a sterile and formal meeting irritated the hell out of Franky. If that was how she let things play out it would she would feel worse than if she didn’t speak to Erica at all._ _

__A large surge of adrenalin passed through her, making her whole body tingle. It was a sensation Franky hadn’t experienced for quite some time yet it was very familiar. She was going to take control of this situation._ _

__Franky reached out and grabbed Erica firmly by the elbow, causing Erica to stumble backwards before she turned around to face Franky again._ _

__“Where’s your place?” Franky asked sternly._ _

__“Sorry?” Erica’s brow furrowed, she was clearly perplexed._ _

__“Where’s your place?” Franky repeated impatiently._ _

__“It’s…umm…”_ _

__“Can we walk there from here?” Franky continued to speak firmly, pushing Erica to respond more quickly._ _

__“Well, no…”_ _

__Without notice, Franky stepped into the road and flagged down a taxi. She held the door open for Erica, whose feet briefly remained glued to the sidewalk as her mind feverishly tried to analyse Franky’s actions. More in response to the brunette’s obvious hurriedness than anything else, Erica took a seat in the cab and slid across the back seat to make room for Franky to join her. “We’ll talk at your joint,” Franky told her as she shut the car door and buckled her seat belt. Erica watched her with her mouth slightly ajar, she couldn’t tell if Franky was being serious. Franky glanced at her sternly, emphasising that she was not joking around. Erica quietly gave her address to the driver._ _

__Shortly into the drive, Franky turned towards Erica who was looking out the window. She appeared to be self-conscious knowing she was under the former prisoner’s gaze. Franky saw that under Erica’s textured jacket she wore an indigo-coloured silk top. There was a white gold necklace around her neck with a pink sapphire pendant. Her hands were bare. Franky looked at her slender fingers with their perfectly manicured nails. Clive was right with what he had said yesterday - there was no ring. Franky could still picture the round diamond engagement ring Erica had flaunted so heartlessly when they were at Wentworth. Who knows when she had stopped wearing it._ _

__Erica turned her head to face Franky. “How are you?” she asked in a shy tone._ _

__Franky chuckled at the normalcy of Erica’s question. In any other cab ride with any other person she would have been happy to engage in small talk. But this wasn’t any ordinary cab ride. The prospect of the two of them meeting on the outside, no matter what the circumstances, is one that Franky knew both of them had first thought of in the early days of their tutoring sessions back in Wentworth. They had not seen each other in years but their relationship at Wentworth had been volatile, intense and ultimately unresolved. Being in each other’s company again, the tension between them was palpable. To ignore that and merely exchange pleasantries would be absurd. “Let’s wait til we get there, hey?” Franky replied. Erica nodded and looked down into her lap. They spent the remainder of the trip in silence._ _

__The taxi stopped and, looking out, Franky could see they were in Prahran. There were a number of cafes and restaurants nearby and the smell of coffee permeated the air. Franky got out and once more held the door open for Erica. She could feel the blood pulsing through her body. Erica led them through the foyer doors of an expensive-looking apartment building. They took an elevator up to one of the top floors. Erica took some keys from her handbag as they walked down a corridor before stopping to open the door to her apartment._ _

__Franky saw a pristine kitchen, a flatscreen TV, a leather lounge suite. She hovered on the threshold. It was her last chance to change her mind. She didn’t. She followed Erica into the apartment. It was noticeably warm inside; the heating system clearly worked well._ _

__Franky felt vaguely scared, not of Erica or course, but at herself. Her baser urges were controlling her behaviour and she knew that could be dangerous. But she couldn’t stop herself. Franky’s eyes raked over Erica. Her soft blonde hair, the curve of her breast that was evident despite the layers of clothing, her killer legs, emphasised so perfectly by her pumps. Erica started to take off her jacket, but Franky stopped her._ _

__“Wait,” Franky said. “Let me.”_ _

__Maintaining eye contact with Erica, Franky walked over to the blonde and removed her jacket for her, letting it land gently on the floor. Franky then knelt on the floor and slipped off Erica’s shoes. Erica appeared shell shocked but her eyes illustrated her arousal as she looked down at Franky, placing her hand on her shoulder to stop herself from toppling. Franky stood again and pulled Erica’s top off over her head, She undid Erica’s skirt and pulled it down over her hips, it rasped against her stockings. Franky tugged off the stockings, collecting them into a flimsy ball which she put beside the shoes. She removed Erica’s bra and slid down her underwear so she stood naked before her._ _

__“God, Erica,” Franky said, in a kind of groan._ _

__Erica stepped forward and took off Franky’s jacket. She then unbuttoned her shirt, her hands trembling slightly as she did so. Franky’s arms were muscular and brown, highlighted by her sleeve tattoo. Erica copied Franky and knelt at her feet to pull off her shoes and socks. She unzipped Franky’s pants and eased them carefully down over ass. Her legs were toned and also quite tanned. Erica took off Franky’s bra and underwear and dropped them on to the floor. Someone moaned but Franky didn’t know if it was Erica or herself. She lifted one hand and tucked a strand of hair behind Erica’s ear, then traced her jaw with a forefinger, very slowly. Erica closed her eyes._ _

__“No,” Franky said. “Look at me.”_ _

__“Please,” Erica said. “Please.”_ _

__Franky unhooked Erica’s necklace and let it fall softly onto the carpet._ _

__“Kiss me,” Franky said forcefully._ _

__Nothing like this had ever happened to Franky before. Sex had never been like this. There had been indifferent sex, embarrassing sex, nasty sex, rough sex, good sex, great sex. This was more like obliterating sex. She and Erica crashed together, trying to get past the barrier of skin and flesh. They held each other as if they were drowning. They tasted each other as if they were starving. And all the time Franky looked at Erica. She looked at her intensely, as if she was committing every inch of Erica’s body to memory._ _

__Afterwards, Erica led Franky to the shower. They kissed passionately under the spray. Both were too spent to fuck again, but Franky gently cupped Erica’s breasts, revelling in their fullness and the soft and slippery sensation that the water and soap provided. Later Erica handed Franky a towel and gave her a moment alone in the bathroom; pointing out the location of the hairdryer should she want to use it._ _

__“I’ve gotta get back to work,” Franky said when she re-entered the lounge area of the apartment, picking up her clothes from the floor, brushing her freshly dried hair back from her face. “You too?”_ _

__“I think I’ll take the rest of the day off,” Erica responded, she was still dressed in only a bath towel and her hair was still wet. “What time do you finish?”_ _

__“About six, I guess.” Franky was buttoning up her shirt and looked up to see Erica looking at her. She had an incredibly tantalising expression on her face, it was a mixture of innocent hopefulness and sinful lust. “i’ll meet ya back here when I’m done.”_ _

__Franky knew she should have told Erica then that she had a partner, a home, a whole other life. Instead she pulled Erica’s face towards hers and kissed her bruised lips. She could hardly bring herself to pull her body away from Erica’s._ _

__In the taxi, alone, she pictured her, remembered her touch, her taste, her smell. Franky rested her head back on the head rest and contemplated the predicament she had just put herself in. “What the fuck am I gonna do?” she sighed._ _


	3. Chapter 3

Franky arrived back at the office out of breath. She had been gone for longer than she would have if she was just getting a haircut as she’d planned, but thankfully no one appeared to notice her late return. Franky felt self-conscious about her clothes. They seemed strange on her because they had not long ago been taken off and eventually put back on in haste. She worried that it would seem as obvious to other people as it seemed to her. Had she fastened some button wrongly? It all seemed fine, but she wasn’t sure enough. She rushed to the bathroom with some makeup. In the unforgiving bright light she checked in the mirror for puffy lips or visible bruises. She did some remedial work with mascara and eye-liner. Her hand was trembling. She had to bang it against the sink to steady it.

Franky rang Bridget’s cell phone. She sounded as if she was in the middle of something. Franky told her that she was going out for drinks again after work and might be late home. How late? She didn’t know, she’d wait and see how well the drinks were going down. Would she be back for dinner? She told Bridget to go ahead without her. Franky rang off and told herself that she was just trying to make things neat. She would probably be home before Bridget was. Then she sat and thought about what she had done. She remembered Erica’s face. She sniffed at her wrist and smelt the soap. Erica’s soap. It made her shiver and when she closed her eyes she could feel the tiles under her feet and hear the shower pattering on her skin. 

There were one of two things that could happen, by which Franky meant that there was one of two things that _should _happen. She could go straight home after work, then the next day procure Erica’s email address from one of her sources and write to her that things would go no further between them. If she did go back to Erica’s apartment, then she would have to tell her firmly and clearly the same thing. That was that. It was a mad thing to have done and the best thing to do was to pretend that it hadn’t happened.__

__Franky had been dazed when she had returned to the office, but now she felt clearer-headed than she had for weeks, full of a new kinetic energy. Over the next hour she completed all her filing work promptly and precisely. Sylvie dropped by her desk and asked if she was doing anything after work. Yes. Meeting an old friend from Wentworth for a drink. Franky was sure Sylvie would presume she meant a fellow ex-inmate. Either way, Sylvie didn’t ask to join them._ _

__Franky looked at the clock on her phone. It was five to six. As she was collecting her things in her bag, Louise, her boss, came in. There had been some unexpected developments in one of her cases that afternoon and she needed someone to do some research for her._ _

__“i’m really sorry, Lou. I’ve got something on.”_ _

__“Really? What?”_ _

__For a moment Franky thought of giving Louise the same excuse she had given Sylvie.but some flicker of survival instinct prompted her not to. Best not blow off the boss for a fictional drink with a friend. “It’s something private.”_ _

__Louise raised an eyebrow. “Job interview?”_ _

__“You caught me, the Galballys have been knocking down my door,” Franky said sarcastically._ _

__Louise laughed but she didn't go away. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “It won’t take long.” Louise sat down with her notes and went through the points she wanted Franky to check on. Franky was able to check one or two of them online but had to phone somebody about another. She made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t look at the clock a single time. What did it matter anyway? When they were finally done, Franky looked at her phone. Twenty-four minutes past seven. Twenty-five past. She didn’t hurry, even after Louise had gone. She went to the lift feeling relieved that her decision had been made for her somewhat. It was best this way. She’d email Erica tomorrow and it would all be forgotten._ _

__*****_ _

__Erica lay at an angle across the bed with her head on Franky’s stomach. Sweat was running down Franky’s face. She could feel it everywhere: on her back, on her legs. Her hair was wet. And she could see the sweat on Erica’s skin. It may have been freezing cold outside but things had gotten very hot in Erica’s bedroom. Franky had worked up a thirst._ _

__“Got anything to drink?” she asked._ _

__“Sure,” Erica said. She sat up quickly, as if she was embarrassed that she hadn’t had the manners to offer Franky a drink before she had asked for one. “What would you like? Water? Vitamin water? Wine? Beer?”_ _

__“I’ll go a beer,” Franky hadn’t pictured Erica as the type to have beer in her fridge, but at that moment she was grateful she did. She felt like she could chug six of them. She watched Erica’s naked form as she left the room. Briefly, she allowed herself to remember the way Bridget looked when she would walk naked around their house. _Their home _.___ _

____Erica returned with two bottles of Peroni and handed one to Franky who took a large swig. The sheet had been kicked down to the bottom of the bed. Erica pulled it up over them and they sat together on the bed. Franky looked around the room. There were photographs on the wall of landscapes from around the world. Franky suspected Erica had taken them herself. There was no television opposite the bed, instead there was a large bookcase. Franky examined the books in there one by one: the collected works of W. H. Auden and pf Sylvia Plath. _Wuthering Heights _, some D. H Lawrence. A large coffee-table book entitled _Humans of New York _._____ _ _ _

________“Not a bad collection,” Franky said, “might’ve read a few of those myself.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I don’t doubt that,” Erica said with a slight smile. Franky looked around at her. “Listen, Franky…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Franky shook her head and touched Erica’s lips with one finger. Their bodies were close together anyway and Franky moved forward a couple of inches and kissed Erica._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________At first Erica kissed back but then she pulled away. “What are you thinking?” she said, running her fingers softly along Franky’s arm. “Talk to me. Tell me something.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Franky didn’t answer immediately. She slid the sheet off Erica’s body and moved her onto her back. She took Erica’s hands and raised them above her head on the mattress as if they were pinned. Erica was exposed like a a specimen on a slide. Franky gently touched Erica’s forehead then ran her fingers down over the blonde’s face, her neck, down her body and came to rest just above her belly button. Erica shivered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Franky leaned forward over her and kissed her stomach. “I was thinking,” Franky said, her right hand moving to caress Erica’s left breast, “that your body is fucking amazing,” she kissed up Erica’s stomach and licked the curve of her breast, causing Erica to gasp. “And I was thinking that I like the way you taste.” She was looked into Erica’s eyes intently. “And I can’t wait to have you come against my mouth again.” Erica’s breaths were shaky and fast, her cheeks blushing from her arousal. Franky began kissing her way down Erica’s stomach. When she reached her hips she stopped and looked into Erica’s eyes again. “What are _you _thinking?” she asked.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Erica lifted herself up onto her elbows. “ _You _lie back,” she said. Franky gave her a teasing smile, but did what Erica asked.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Erica ran her fingers over Franky’s body, which smelt of sex and sweat. “What am I thinking? I think that when I woke up this morning I never would have guessed this would happen today.” She pulled herself on top of Franky, their breasts pushed together in the most delicious way. “I came to see you today because I wanted to be honest with you.” She kissed Franky’s neck, before looking her in the eyes once more. “And I can honestly tell you I’ve wanted this for the longest time.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________A feeling of intense joy rose up in Franky at hearing those words._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Erica broke eye contact once more. She shuffled downwards and kissed Franky’s breasts. Her lips trailed down Franky’s torso to her navel and then traversed her stomach from side to side. Her efforts elicited a low moan from Franky._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Erica moved further down, her hands went between Franky’s knees and held them apart. She gently kissed her inner thigh, moving towards the center in a series of agonisingly slow pecks. Franky’s breathing became heavier as Erica’s lips neared their intended destination. Her body began to writhe with the pleasure that was coursing through her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Erica held on and steadied Franky to keep her in line with her tongue. Slowly, she ran her tongue along Franky’s inflamed lips. Franky let out a guttural groan, raw, insatiable lust ruling her body. Every sensory cell within her lit up brightly, like a million fireflies fluttering within her until the glow of her arousal threatened to burst through her skin._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Erica dropped one of her hands and and traced the inside of Franky’s sex with one finger, then two. Then she pressed harder, moving her fingertips slowly. Her ministrations caused a rush of hormones through Franky’s body, heating her all the way to her core. She opened her eyes wide and looked upwards. Feelings long dormant blazed through her mind in vivid flashes. All the times she had had fantasised about being in bed with Erica’s head between her legs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Franky moaned when Erica pushed her fingers deep inside. Erica was gentle and moved carefully until she felt Franky begin to grind against her fingers. She looked into Franky’s pleading eyes and pushed harder and faster. Every stroke of her fingers caused a paroxysm of pleasure to course through Franky’s body. Franky continued to grind, embedding Erica’s slender fingers deeper with her. Erica took the opportunity to lock her lips around Franky’s clit and suck on it, before massaging it with her tongue._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Fuck,” Franky yelled. The fingers and tongue in tandem spurred her pleasure to even greater heights. Her back arched upwards and her head rocked back. She closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the feeling._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Before long it hit her. Waves of pleasure cascaded through her body, making her spasm and convulse. Her thighs locked around Erica’s face, holding it in places as her orgasm erupted. She looked into an incandescent flash of colour before going back again. Her body went limp and her limbs gave way as she floated back down from the euphoric high of her orgasm._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________As she lay gasping for breath, Franky saw Erica crawling up to see her. They kissed softly, tongues twirling lightly against each other, just enough that Franky could taste herself on Erica’s mouth. Slowly Erica extracted herself before laying down beside Franky contentedly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________They lay together for a long time after that. One hour, two hours. They barely spoke. They touched. Rested. Looked at each other. Franky lay and listened to the sounds of voices and cars in the street below. Then she broke the silence. “I have a girlfriend,” she said. “More than a girlfriend. I live with somebody.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She didn’t know what she expected. Anger, evasiveness, maybe even a sigh of relief. Erica didn’t move. She didn’t even open her eyes. “Okay,” was all she said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Franky took a deep breath. “I better get going,” she said with resignation._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She showered and then dressed. Erica was sitting up in the bed, looking at something in her cell phone. “Can I have your number?” she asked tentatively._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Franky pulled her own phone out of her pocket. “Give me yours,” she said. She tapped out Erica’s number as the blonde gave it to her then rang it, thus ensuring that her own number would now be in Erica’s phone. She took a step towards the door but then turned back. She leaned over and kissed Erica gently. Erica wrapped a hand around the back of her head and pulled her down. Franky felt an ache in her chest so that she could hardly breathe, but she shook Erica off. “Gotta go,” she whispered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________It was after midnight. When Franky let herself into the house, it was dark. Bridget had gone to bed.Franky tiptoed into the ensuite. She put her underwear into the washbag. She had a shower for the second time in an hour. The fourth time that day. She washed her body again in her own soap. She washed her hair in her own shampoo. She crawled into bed beside Bridget, who turned and mumbled something._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Me you too,” Franky said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	4. Chapter 4

Bridget woke Franky up with her coffee. She sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed Franky’s hair back from her forehead while she surfaced from sleep. Franky stared at her, and her memory flooded back, disastrous and overpowering. Her lips felt sore and puffy; her body ached. Surely Bridget could tell, just by looking at her. Franky pulled the duvet up to her chin and smiled at her girlfriend. 

“You look gorgeous this morning,” Bridget said. “Have you any idea what time it is?”

Franky shook her head. Bridget looked theatrically at her phone. “Nearly eleven thirty. Lucky it’s the weekend. What time did you get in last night?”

“Midnight. Maybe a bit later.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Bridget said. “Drink up. Lunch at my parents’, remember?”

Franky hadn’t remembered. Only her body seemed to have a memory now. Her hands on Erica’s breasts, her lips at Erica’s throat, Erica’s eyes staring into hers. Bridget smiled at her and rubbed her neck, while she lay, sick with desire for another woman. She picked up Bridget’s hand and kissed it. Bridget leaned down and kissed her on the lips, and Franky felt as if she was betraying someone. Bridget? Erica?

“I’ll run you a bath,” Bridget said.

“Sweet, thanks.”

Franky poured a stream of lemon bath oil into the water, and washed herself all over again, as if she could wash away what had happened. She had barely eaten anything the day before, but the thought of food was horrible. She closed her eyes and lay in the hot, deep, fragrant water and let herself think of Erica. She must never, ever be alone with her again, that was clear. She loved Bridget. She liked her life. She had behaved appallingly and she would lose everything. She must see Erica again, at once. Nothing else mattered except the way she felt under her hands, the ache of her flesh, the way she said Franky’s name. She would see her once, just once, to tell her it was over. She owed her that at least. What bullshit. She was lying to herself as well as to Bridget. If she saw Erica again, looked again into her beautiful face, she would fuck her. No, the only thing to do was just turn away from everything that had happened yesterday. Concentrate on Bridget and work. But just one more time, a last time.

“Ten minutes, Franky. All right?”

The sound of Bridget’s voice brought Franky to her senses. Of course she was going to stay with Bridget. They’d get married, maybe, and have children and one day this would be a memory, one of those ridiculous things she had done once before she grew up. She sluiced herself down into the bath one last time, watching the bubbles stream off a body that suddenly seemed strange to her. Then she climbed out of the bath. Bridget held out a towel. Franky was aware of Bridget’s eyes on her as she dried.

“Perhaps we can be a bit late after all,” Bridget said. “Come here.”

So Franky let Bridget make love to her, and tell her that she loved her, and she lay under her damp and acquiescent. And Bridget didn’t know, she couldn’t tell. It would be Franky’s secret.

 

*****

 

They had spinach frittata for lunch, with garlic bread and green salad. Bridget’s mother, Sue, was a good cook. She and Bridget’s father, Greg, had always made Franky feel welcome in their home. Bridget was already in her mid-forties when she and Franky first got together so her parents were well and truly past the point of questioning the choices their daughter made for herself. They trusted her judgement, and any friend or girlfriend of her’s would be welcome in their house with open arms. Franky had been relieved and grateful to be accepted so easily by them.

Franky lifted a piece of curly lettuce on her fork and put it in her mouth, chewed slowly. It was difficult to swallow. She took a gulp of water and tried again. She’d never be able to eat all of this.

“Are you all right, Franky?” Bridget’s mother was looking fretfully at her. She hated it when Franky didn’t finish meals that she’d cooked. Knowing Franky’s background as a chef she took it as a sign that the meal was subpar. Franky knew this, so she would usually try to have a second helping of whatever was served.

She speared a chunk of frittata, pushed it into her mouth and chewed determinedly. “Fine,” she said, when she had swallowed it. “Just a bit hungover,” she added with a grin.

Bridget’s mother laughed. “Warming up for next weekend are you?”

Next weekend was Bridget’s birthday, a milestone birthday at that. Her 50th. Franky had organised a dinner party with friends at an Indian restaurant, then they would kick on at their favourite haunt, _EDV_ , which was a trendy little speakeasy in the city. Just from having heard the basic details - and from knowing what Bridget and Franky were like - Bridget’s mother knew it would be a celebration where plenty of drinks would be consumed.

“You bet, Sue. I’ve gotta get the liver prepared for the party of the year!” Franky did her best to be jovial, leaning across and patting Bridget on the back playfully.

“Oh God, don’t remind me.” Bridget said.

“Bridget! It’s not like you to not look forward to a night out. Ever since you were a little girl you’ve always liked any excuse for a party.” Sue said.

“Yeah well, not when the excuse is me turning 50. Call me crazy but i don’t like the sound of being 50 years old.”

Sue leaned over and took her daughter’s hand. “Well no matter how it sounds to you, I think you will be the most beautiful and youthful 50 year old in Melbourne. You should celebrate that. Don’t you agree, Franky?”

“Bloody oath I do,” Franky responded as earnestly as possible. Bridget smiled at her lovingly, causing a wave of guilt to pass through her body. She nibbled on some garlic bread. Sue watched her.

After lunch, they all went for a slow walk in a nearby park among a spattering of joggers and dog walkers. When it was beginning to get dark, Bridget and Franky drove home. Bridget went to the shops to pick up some milk and bread. Franky took out her phone and looked up Erica’s number. She thought about texting her. Asking if she could come over. She could tell Bridget she was going for a run. Nerves overwhelmed her. She put the phone down on a table and stood over it, breathing heavily. In a rush she picked it up again and deleted Erica’s number. It didn’t matter anyway, because she could remember it, and Erica could contact her herself if she wished. Bridget came back then, walking through the door with her shopping. It will never get worse than this, Franky told herself. Every day it will get a little better. It’s just a question of waiting.

On Sunday, Franky and Bridget painted a room that they planned to be a study. Franky tied her hair back in a scarf and wore some old jeans and still managed to drop pea-green paint on her hands and face. They had a late lunch and in the afternoon they binged watched _Downton Abbey_ arm in arm on the sofa. Franky went to bed early, after an hour-long bath, saying she still felt a bit off-colour from Friday night. When Bridget climbed in beside her later, she pretended to be asleep, but she lay awake for hours in the dark. As quietly as possible she took her phone from the charger beside the bed. Just as she suspected, she remembered Erica’s number by heart. She sent her a short text message. “Call in sick tomorrow”, is all she wrote before reconnecting the phone to the charger and drifting off to sleep.

The next morning was a rare occasion where Franky was first out of bed. She had a shower and told Bridget she would be working quite late, that Louise had a number of important cases on and she had her doing a lot of research. At the train station she waited until Bridget had boarded her train before she called Flintoff & Jones saying she was ill and would be unable to make it in. It was the first time she had ever called in sick so no one would suspect she was faking it.

Franky flagged down a taxi - it didn’t occur to her to take a train - and gave Erica’s address. She tried not to think about what she was doing. She tried not to think about Bridget, her honest face, her trust. She looked out of the window as the cab crawled slowly through the rush-hour traffic. She checked her eye makeup and fiddled with the buttons on her coat. If anyone looked inside the taxi, they would just see a woman in a black coat on her way to work. She could still change her mind.

Franky knocked on the door. There was a short wait before Erica answered it. Franky leered at the blonde, looking her up and down. Erica gave a tight-lipped smile, feeling slightly self-conscious. She was barefoot and wearing tight blue jeans and a close-fitting red woollen sweater. Her blonde curls were tied up in a loose ponytail. It was the first time Franky had seen Erica dressed in something other than her work attire. It may just have been the best she had ever seen Erica look.

As she stepped into the apartment Franky hooked her fingers into the waistband of Erica’s jeans with one hand and slammed the door behind her with the other. She pulled Erica toward her firmly so their faces were only a few inches apart. Erica gasped at Franky’s rough handling and tentatively placed her hands on the younger woman’s hips. 

“Why didn’t you text me this weekend, huh?” Franky asked with a cocky grin on her face. She began walking Erica backwards toward the kitchen area.

Erica blushed and looked down briefly as she stumbled backwards. Then she brought her eyes back up to meet Franky’s. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to.”

Franky laughed. “Yeah right,” she said mockingly. 

Erica’s backside hit the island bench of the kitchen, stopping her in her tracks. She placed her hands on the bench to steady herself. Franky pressed herself up against the blonde. She tilted her head and leant forward, laving a tongue across Erica’s earlobe. 

“I think you were playing hard to get, Miss Davidson,” Franky whispered into Erica’s ear. She planted a string of kisses down her neck then whispered to her again. “You didn’t want me to know how badly you want me.” Franky nuzzled her nose into Erica’s throat, kissing and nibbling. Erica’s head leant back, her mouth opened, and she let out a soft little moan. Franky’s hands went to the button of Erica’s jeans and swiftly undid it.

She brought her head back up and she grabbed Erica’s chin with her thumb and forefinger, forcing the blonde to look her in the eye once more. Erica’s face was flushed with arousal and she was already breathless. Franky grinned. “But the truth is you want me just as bad as you always have,” she said assertively.

Done with the foreplay, Franky picked Erica up and sat her on the island bench. She removed her own coat before she hurriedly shed Erica of her jeans and underwear. The blonde lifted herself up on her hands at the right moments to assist. She undid as many of Franky’s shirt buttons as she could manage before the younger woman pressed up against her once more and Erica instinctively wrapped her naked legs around the Franky's hips.

Franky’s fingers slid easily over the warm, silky flesh around Erica’s opening, and Erica responded to her touch with a gasp.

“Fuck you're sexy,” Franky said forcefully, her eyes boring into Erica’s, challenging her to maintain eye contact.

Erica’s hips bucked, grinding against Franky’s open hand. Franky slipped two fingers inside, and Erica couldn’t hold back a squeal of pleasure. Franky loved how easily Erica got wet for her. Knowing how hot Erica was for her was a huge turn on. She moved her fingers in and out, enveloped in the warm softness of Erica’s sex, and then, right there, she found it. Erica’s back arched, and her moans became louder. Franky rubbed her fingers against that particular spot inside Erica that drove her wild.

Franky slid her other hand along Erica’s thigh and eased into the gap between her lips. When the tip of her fingers slid over Erica’s clit she squealed again, she was totally losing control. Franky pushed Erica to the very limit of what she could endure, and then pulled back just enough to keep her from coming.

She held Erica right on the edge for a while, and then leaned over and took began kissing the sensitive spots on her neck, sucking, sucking, teasing with her tongue, nibbling lightly. Erica was almost thrashing, wordlessly begging for release, but Franky denied her, pulling her back from the bring once, then twice, and finally letting her go.

Erica came in a great shudder, Franky focused on prolonging the orgasm as long as possible as wave after wave crashed over the blonde. Franky’s fingers were still inside Erica, though now only stroking gently, and Erica clenched around them and relaxed again as the tremors came and went. Franky fixed her eyes to Erica’s face as it melted from raw desire into serene bliss. She had never seen anything so beautiful.

Erica placed her head on Franky’s shoulder and sat there for awhile panting, eyes closed, and Franky held her. After a few minutes, Franky wrapped Erica’s legs around her again, lifted her from the island bench and carried her down to the bedroom. She removed what remained of Erica’s clothes, then stripped naked herself. She lay Erica down on the bed then climbed on top of her. She was ready for another round.


	5. Chapter 5

A couple of hours later both women lay naked on Erica’s bed, relaxed and sated. 

“We have to talk,” Erica said. “We should discuss…”

“I know. Wait.” Franky interrupted. She got up from the bed and put on her knickers and shirt. “You got a coffee machine?”

“Yes. Would you like me to…”

“Nuh, I’ll figure it out,” Franky finished buttoning up her shirt so her breasts were no longer on display. “Coffee machines are one of my many areas of expertise.” Franky winked at Erica then retreated from the bedroom and walked to the kitchen. Erica could soon hear the sound of coffee grinding. She followed Franky’s lead and put her knickers back on and wrapped herself in a satin robe.

When Erica reached the kitchen Franky had just finished making two espressos. “All done,” she said. “Where do you want ‘em?”

“How about we sit on the couch?” Erica gestured to the living area.

“No worries,” Franky took the espressos and placed them on coasters on the coffee table then took a seat on the lounge suite. 

Erica put some almond croissants on a plate and brought them over to join her. “I bought these this morning from a cafe downstairs,” she said.

“Expecting company were you?” Franky replied cheekily. Erica smiled and blushed but didn’t respond, placing the croissants on the coffee table. 

Franky discovered she was ravenous. She ate her first croissant at lightning speed and quickly picked up a second. Her eating was interrupted only to take an occasional sip of her coffee. For a few minutes she and Erica ate and drank in silence. When she had finished her second croissant Franky looked over at Erica who had only eaten half of her first. She leaned forward and took a flake of croissant off Erica’s lower lip. 

“We’ve got to talk,” Erica said again. Franky waited. “I mean, we should catch up on things. What have you been up to since you were released from Wentworth? It looks like things are going well for you?”

Franky smiled broadly. She wasn’t going to make things easy for Erica. “Nah, we can talk about me later. You wanna catch up then you go first. What have you been up to since _you_ were released from Wentworth?” 

Erica gave a frustrated sigh but she played along with a smile. “Well, as far as work goes, I threw myself back into law as soon as I left. I worked at a couple of private firms, focused on criminal law. And for the past year I’ve worked at the Legal Aid office in the city.”

“Impressive. Still a softy for the disadvantaged, then?”

Erica laughed softly. “I suppose that’s one way of putting it.” She felt slightly foolish that she had only just got to telling Franky this basic information about herself. A few minutes ago they’d been making love and staring into each other’s eyes with rapt attention. It was almost surreal.

“What happened to the lucky guy?” Franky didn’t muck around, quickly changing to the topic that she was most curious about..

Erica furrowed her brow questioningly. 

“I take it the lucky guy isn’t so lucky anymore?” Franky continued. She pointed to Erica’s left ring finger. “No rock.”

“Oh right,” Erica looked down at her coffee cup. “We broke up not long after I was forced to resign from Wentworth.” She took a deep breath. “I guess losing my job wasn’t a big enough life change for me. I decided to break up with my fiancé, too,” she added in a sarcastic tone.

Franky laughed. “Well it was a good move, I say. i never met the bloke but it’s obvious he wasn’t the one for you.”

“Yes, well it only took me ten years to figure that out.”

“Ten years? Fuck!”

“Yes, yes, I know. Anyway it’s over now and I’m just glad I came to my senses eventually.” Erica paused, then decided to ask about the topic she was most curious about, too. “What about your girlfriend? How long have you been together?”

It was Franky’s turn to look down at her coffee. Even though she had been the one to tell Erica that she had a girlfriend, the thought of talking about it made her feel sick with guilt. It was almost as if talking about Bridget behind her back was an even bigger betrayal than sleeping around behind her back. Her fingers began to tremble slightly as they gripped the coffee cup.

“Look, sorry, but I don’t wanna get into all of that.” She leaned back on the couch and sighed heavily. “I know this is wrong my being here with you when I’m living with another woman. I spent the weekend deciding that I should never see you again. But I also spent that whole time knowing that I couldn’t stay away. What’s going on between me and you has nothing to do with my relationship with my girlfriend.” She sipped her coffee. “That’s all you need to know.”

Erica placed her hand on Franky’s knee. “Of course, I’m sorry Franky, I didn’t mean…”

Franky finished the last of her drink and placed the cup back on the table. “Don’t worry about it.” She leant forward into Erica’s personal space. “So are we done talking now?”

Erica put both hands on Franky’s chest to stop her advance. “Just one more thing,” Franky sat back on the couch with a huff. “Franky I need to know if you got my letter. The letter I sent you just after I left Wentworth.” She looked at Franky with trepidation. 

Franky had gotten the letter. She found it under her pillow a week after Erica had left. It had clearly not gone through the usual prison channels. Not only had it been delivered to her bed, but the envelope was sealed and untampered with so it mustn’t have been read by the screws. If she hadn’t been so familiar with Erica’s handwriting from their many months of tutoring she probably wouldn’t have believed it was actually from her. Franky could still remember exactly what it said.

_Franky,_

_I apologise for leaving - I didn’t jump, I was pushed. If you want to reach me I will be working at a law firm called Staden & Jameson. I sincerely hope you continue with your studies and stay on track for your parole._

_Erica_

_P.S. I don’t regret our last meeting._

The postscript was undoubtedly the most memorable part of the letter for Franky. To her it confirmed what she had always known. Erica had feelings for her, wanted her, and she had enjoyed their kiss in the governor’s office. Those six words had given Franky hope for a future with Erica. 

But that was a long time ago. A lot of water had passed under the bridge since then. And right now Franky didn’t want to let on to Erica the affect the letter had had on her. She played it cool.

“Yeah I got it. How’d ya manage to sneak that in?”

Erica gave a proud smile. “I had a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“You’ve still got a few tricks up your sleeve,” Franky grinned flirtatiously.

Erica ignored the tease. “Well I’m glad to hear it made it to you.”

“Yep, it did. Thanks heaps.”

Erica looked at Franky questioningly. “Why didn’t you respond?”

Franky sighed. She was thinking on her feet but she thought it would be easiest not to tell Erica about the letters she had written in response. Maybe she would eventually. But the heartache of discovering the letters were confiscated by Channing and subsequently read by Ferguson - and who knows who else - was something she definitely didn’t feel like rehashing at that moment. Plus, she figured Erica would probably want to know what was in them. Amongst other things, Franky had shared many sexual fantasies in those letters. There was no need to tell her about them. She’d much prefer to just act them out.

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “Just decided to focus on my parole.” 

“I understand,” Erica said solemnly, nodding her head.

The blonde had a worried look on her face. Franky could tell she had hundreds more questions about everything that had happened in Franky’s life since they last saw each other at Wentworth. But Franky had become more in touch with how her own mind worked in their time apart. She knew talking about the past was bound to bring up negative emotions - anger, sadness, disappointment, more guilt. She intended to enjoy this day for what it was. And she knew a surefire way to get Erica to stop asking questions.

“Come here,” she said. She reached over and grabbed Erica’s arm and pulled her onto her lap so the blonde was straddling her. “I’ve got a far more interesting question for you.” She undid Erica’s robe to expose her breasts and cupped them with both hands. “Have you ever fucked on this couch?” she kneaded Erica’s breasts tantalisingly, looking up into her eyes. Erica shook her head, no. “You wanna change that?” Franky asked.

Erica didn’t answer, she just pounced. She kissed Franky fiercely on the mouth, pulling her in close so she could undo the buttons of her shirt. Franky’s body responded instinctively. Erica moved her head down and Franky was soon arching her back, pushing her tits into Erica’s willing mouth. She put one hand on Erica’s tight, round ass, while the other gripped onto a couch cushion. 

“You wanna fuck me?” Franky asked.

“Uhmm hmmm,” Erica hummed in response, her mouth still sucking on Franky’s nipple.

Franky gripped Erica’s hair and wrenched her head back, forcing her to look her in the eye.

“Tell me,” she said forcefully.

Erica gasped for breath, looking up at Franky, her eyes burning with lust. “I want to fuck you, Franky,” she licked the curve of Franky’s breast then looked up again, “so bad.”

Franky smiled. Hearing Erica talk dirty was so fucking hot. She let the blonde push her down onto her back and then continue with her ministrations. She closed her eyes and let herself feel, just feel. Erica was new at this she suspected, but what she lacked in experience she made up for in pure, raw, burning desire. Erica wanted Franky, and Franky wanted Erica to want her.

Erica’s hands were everywhere, trying to stroke and to hold and to possess every inch of Franky’s long athletic frame. Her mouth followed, gently nibbling Franky’s ear and nuzzling her neck, and then it was making a line of kisses down her arm, or across her belly, or up the inside of her thigh. Franky laid her head back and let it happen, all of it. She couldn’t stop it, and she didn’t want to.

Franky felt hands caressing her breasts, fingers pinching her nipples. Then wet lips replaced fingers and Franky moaned. She spread her legs, aching to feel a hand or a tongue between them but Erica made no move to satisfy her. Erica was intent on exploring Franky's body slowly, and she discovered sensitive spots that Franky didn't even know she had: the crook of her elbow, the crest of her ear, the bottom edge her ribcage. Whether this was a deliberate plan or simple inexperience, the effect was the same - it drove Franky mad with desire.

When Erica's hand brushed up against Franky's center, already slick with arousal, Franky actually screamed. Nobody had ever made her scream before during sex. Nobody had even come close. There was something about Erica, something beyond simple physical desire, that connected her to Franky in a way she hadn't experienced in years, or perhaps ever.

After Franky screamed, Erica finally got the message. She swiftly removed Franky’s underwear and her open mouth landed right between Franky's legs, licking and sucking. Her fingers soon joined in. Franky closed her eyes and willed her body still, so that she could take in every swipe of Erica's tongue, every caress of Erica's fingers inside her. After what could have been twenty seconds or twenty minutes, she heard herself screaming again, her back arched, and the most amazing orgasm crashed over her.

The physical sensation, centered in her clit, wasn't sharp and intense, like she was used to. It was bigger; it spread throughout her whole body, making her scalp tingle and her toes curl. It seemed to last forever, and Erica just kept feeding it with her fingers and gentle tongue. That was the release Franky desperately wanted.

******

Franky spent the rest of the day at Erica’s. They made love, and they chatted about books and television shows and movies. They settled into a comfortable rapport, teasing and laughing at each other when their opinions differed and revelling when they were shared. At lunch time Erica put on her jeans and sweater and went down the street to collect them take away Pad Thai. In the afternoon they had a couple of beers and Franky utilised the ingredients in Erica’s kitchen to make bruschetta. Sex and talk and food blurred into each other. Franky wanted the day to go on for ever. She felt so renewed she hardly recognised herself. 

“I have to go,” Franky said at last. It was dark outside.

A look of grim resignation passed over Erica’s face but she made no comment. She simply helped Franky collect her things and walked her to the door.

“Will you text me? Or call?” Erica asked tentatively.

“Yep, for sure.” Franky knew that she would. Erica wrapped her arms around Franky’s neck and kissed her slowly and thoroughly. Both women lingered in the kiss for as long as possible before the inevitability of their parting. Eventually, Franky reluctantly ended the kiss and turned to leave. Erica grabbed her hand to stop her.

“I just want you to know I had a great time today,” she said.

Franky smiled. “Me too.” 

Then she headed for home. For Bridget.


	6. Chapter 6

“That’s it, pull the left string down a bit, careful not to collide with that other one. There, isn’t that satisfying?”

In each hand, Franky held a spool of string that twitched and snagged in the gusts of wind. The kite - Bridget had found it when cleaning out a cupboard for the study - swooped above them. It was a rather swanky red and yellow stunt kite, with a long ribbon that slapped when the wind changed.

“Careful now, Franky, it’s going to crash. Pull.”

Bridget had no appointments for the afternoon so had come into the city to meet Franky for lunch before heading home. They planned to have sandwiches in the park so Bridget had brought the kite along for fun. Franky looked at her girlfriend. Her nose was red from the chill. She was clearly having a lot of fun. Franky tugged on both strings randomly, and the kite veered and plummeted. The strings went slack and it accelerated into the ground.

“Don’t move. I’ll get it,” yelled Bridget.

She went running off along the grass, picked up the kite, walked with it until the strings were taut again, then sailed it up into the low white sky once more, where it pulled at its reins. Franky thought of trying to explain to Bridget that the good bits of kite-flying - that is, when the kite was briefly airborne - didn’t, as far as Franky was concerned, compensate for the bits where it was lying on the grass with the line having to be untangled by clumsy numb fingers. She decided not to.

“We should go to the ski fields,” said Bridget, back beside Franky and panting, “we could go tobogganing.”

“What’s got into you? Bit energetic, hey?”

Bridget stood behind Franky and slid her arms around her. Franky concentrated on steering the kite.

“We could take snowboarding lessons,” she said, “or just regular skiing. Or maybe we should buy a toboggan. They don’t cost much and it would last us years.”

“In the meantime,” Franky said, “I’ve gotta get back to work. And I can’t feel my fingers.”

“Here.” Bridget took the kite from Franky. “I’ll let you get going. What time do you think you’ll be home?”

“Should be able to leave at 5, so I’ll be home before 6.”

“I might buy us some crumpets. I love crumpets.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s lots you don’t know about me.” Bridget started reeling in the kite. “Did you know, for instance, that when I was fifteen I had a crush on a girl called Francesca?” She was in the year above me at school. I was just a scrawny little girl to her, of course. It was agony. I hated being a teenager. I couldn’t wait to grow up.”

Bridget knelt on the ground, carefully folded the kite and put it away in its narrow nylon bag. Franky didn’t say anything. Bridget looked up and smiled. “Of course, being grown-up has its problems too. But at least you don’t feel so awkward and self-conscious all the time.”

Franky squatted down beside her. “What are your problems now, then, Gidge?”

“Now?” She frowned then looked surprised. “Nothing, really.” She put her arms on Franky’s shoulders, nearly unbalancing her. “Only the small fact that I’m about to turn 50 while my stunning, young girlfriend is in her prime.”

“Gidge, don’t start that shit. I don’t give a fuck how old you are. Age is just a fuckin’ number. You know that.”

Bridget kissed the tip of Franky’s nose. “I know. I’m just being a bit precious.”

Franky stood up and pulled Bridget to her feet. “What about you?” Bridget asked.

“What?”

“What are your grown-up problems?”

“Let me think. A criminal record. Youtube notoriety. And bad circulation, apparently. Come on, I’m freezing.”

******

Franky had a busy afternoon at work but was able to leave at 5:00pm as she had hoped. She was lucky enough to get a seat in the crowded peak hour train. She retrieved her phone from her satchel and composed a text to Erica.

“Do you have any body parts that hurt?” Franky smiled as she typed. She couldn’t resist opening with a teasing question.

Within a minute, her phone beeped. “Not telling.” 

Franky laughed to herself. “Well played ;) What you up to?”

“Staying late at the office. Catching up on work.”

“You were a bad girl taking yesterday off.” Franky could imagine the blush that would have crossed Erica’s face when she read that message.

“I had a bad influence.” 

Franky smiled. Erica was quick with the comebacks today. “Better stop distracting you. Text ya tomorrow.”

“Have a good night.”

Franky deleted the text messages then tapped into her Facebook app. She had created an event page for Bridget’s 50th. Everyone who was invited had indicated they’d be going. She thought about what Gidge had said at the park at lunchtime. She hoped she wasn’t really feeling bad about her upcoming birthday. It was true that Franky couldn’t care less how old Gidge was. She was determined for the party to be a great time for everyone.

When Franky got home, Bridget really had bought crumpets. She suggested cooking some up but Franky insisted they go out for dinner instead. She wanted to spoil Bridget - partly because of the lingering guilt she felt over her day of debauchery the day before, but mainly because she always like to spoil Bridget for her birthday week, whether it be a milestone birthday or not.

They went to an Italian restaurant near their house and ate spaghetti with clams and drank abrasive red wine. Bridget was in a nostalgic mood. She talked more about her teenage years and about some of the other girlfriends she’d had before Franky. Then they spoke about the blissful days they had spent together when Franky was first released from prison, before real life had interfered and they had to share the time with university and work. They had coffee and shared a tiramisu, and Franky felt happy with how the evening had panned out.

When they got home they headed straight to the bedroom. Bridget decided to have a quick shower. Franky crawled into bed and curled up under the duvet. Her phone beeped. It was Erica.

“I can smell your perfume on my sheets. I like it.”

A warmth spread through Franky. Erica writing teasing, flirtatious texts. Trying to beat her at her own game. This was an intriguing turn of events. She quickly typed a reply.

“Very cheeky. You’re gonna get it.”

A short wait and Franky’s phone beeped again. “Promise?”

_Oh fuck!_ Erica was being deliberately provocative. And it was definitely having the desired effect on Franky. She went to type out a reply but at that moment Bridget reappeared in the bedroom wrapped in her towel. Franky quickly turned off her phone then placed it on the charger.

Bridget didn’t put on her pyjamas. She dropped her towel to the floor and crawled naked into the bed and climbed on top of Franky.

“Thank you so much for tonight, I had a great time.” she said.

“No worries,” Franky said with a grin. “You’re getting spoilt rotten for the rest of the week so get used to it.”

Bridget smiled and gave Franky a quick kiss. “I’d like to do something for you in return.”

Bridget kissed Franky on the lips again and then moved down, planting soft kisses down her chest and stomach. She told Franky she loved her, and Franky told Bridget she loved her too. She wanted to say it over and over, to remind herself of it, to help keep her focus, but she stopped herself. As Bridget went down on her, images of Erica flashed through Franky’s mind. What would she be doing now? Obviously she was in bed. Maybe she was wearing sexy lingerie. Or maybe she was naked. 

Franky reached her hand down and softly grasped Bridget’s hair, encouraging her. Franky was incredibly horny; she wasn’t going to last long. Her mind continued to wander. She wondered whether Erica was thinking about her at that moment. She imagined Erica touching herself. Sweeping those perfectly manicured hands all over her own body, before slowly trailing them down so she could pleasure herself. So she could _fuck_ herself. The images in Franky’s mind combined with the feel of Bridget’s tongue against her were too much. She came hard against Bridget’s mouth. 

******

For the next few days, Franky stayed true to her promise of spoiling Bridget for her birthday week. She went straight home from work every day, bought flowers and expensive wines, cooked Bridget’s favourite meals and served them by candlelight, and made love to her each night. Despite what had been happening between herself and Erica, Franky still took genuine pleasure in doing things for Bridget. She saw how much Bridget appreciated and was touched by her efforts.

Franky had a strong inkling from their text message conversation on the Tuesday night that Erica was keen to see her as soon as possible. However, Erica had offered no objections when Franky had let her know that they wouldn’t be able to see each other until the following week. She simply replied that she understood when Franky had texted saying that unfortunately she was flat-out with work and had plans for the weekend.

In the back of her mind, Franky had hoped that she would find it easy not seeing Erica. She hoped it would be a case of out-of-sight-out-of mind. Maybe the break would be so easy that it would encourage her to leave the affair behind her. She could break things off with Erica before they got too serious, then things would return to normal. However, the break turned out to be the exact opposite to out-of-sight-out-of-mind. She thought about Erica constantly.

Franky had given up cigarettes about a year after she got out of prison. Bridget had told her that the trick was not to think about not smoking: what you are denying yourself, she’d said, becomes doubly desirable and then its like a kind of persecution. Franky had quit without any difficulties. Cold turkey. Once she had decided to give up she didn’t think about smoking again. 

But now she understood exactly what Bridget had meant. She couldn’t stop thinking about Erica, and the more she thought about her the more she wanted her. Turned out that Erica was far more addictive than nicotine.

******

The night of Bridget’s big 50th birthday celebration had arrived. Bridget and Franky sat at a table at _Nirankar,_ one of Melbourne’s premier Indian restaurants, with twelve of their closest friends. Bottles of wine and glasses of beer stood on the table, and everyone’s faces in the candlelight looked merry and soft.

“Franky!” Clive, her workmate, shouted from one end of the table. Franky sat squeezed against Bridget, their thighs pressed together, at the other end, but Clive waved her over. “I called her,” he said.

“Who?”

“Erica,” he said. “She said no. Last time I come to you for advice,” he added in jest.

“Come on!” Franky said, doing her best imitation of someone having fun and not someone whose heart had just stopped at the mention of her lover’s name. It seemed like a lifetime ago that Clive had told her about meeting Erica and she and Sylvie had encouraged him to ask her out. “You know I give great advice. This is the first smudge on a squeaky clean record.”

Clive laughed. “Maybe it’s best she turned me down. I invited her to come with me tonight. It might have been a bit much for a first date. I think things might get pretty messy by the end of the night.”

_Holy shit, Franky thought. Dodged a massive bullet there. Thank fuck she said no._

“That’s the plan, mate!” Franky chinked her beer glass against his. “Drink up, it’s time for another round.”

Franky was now sitting next to Sylvie. Across from her was Julie with her boyfriend. On the other side of Sylvie was Bridget’s younger sister Pauline, who was there with Tom, her fairly new husband. Pauline caught Franky’s eye and gave her a smile. She was probably Franky’s closest friend outside of her work mates and she had been trying not to think of her for the past couple of weeks. Franky smiled back. 

She started to pick at someone else’s onion bhaji and concentrated on what Sylvie was telling her, which was about a man she’d been seeing, most specifically what they’d been doing in bed, or on the bed, or on the floor. “What most men don’t seem to understand is that when they arrange your legs over their shoulders so that they can go deeper in, it can really hurt. When Joe did it last night, I thought I was going to pull a hamstring,” she said with earnest.

Sylvie was the only person Franky knew who satisfied her basic interest in what other people actually do when they have sex. She was generally willing to reply with confessions of her own, but she resisted this time. She was already inebriated and she couldn’t risk letting slip details that happened with Erica and not Bridget. “I keep telling ya, you’ve gotta try doing it with a chick. You’ll never go back.”

“Well I’m seriously considering it now,” Sylvie grinned wolfishly, her teeth white and her lips painted bright red. “Honestly, a night with Joe is like a night at the rodeo. I felt so sore today that I could hardly sit down at work. I’d complain to Joe about it but he’d take it as some backhanded compliment, which I don’t mean at all. I’m sure you’re much better than I am at getting what you want. Sexually, I mean.”

“Can’t complain,” Franky said, looking around to see if anybody was listening to what they were saying. A fresh glass of beer was placed in front of her and she half emptied it in a gulp. At this rate, and on a practically empty stomach, she’d be drunk soon. Maybe then she would feel less bad. She stared at the menu. “I’ll have, um …” Her voice trailed away. She thought she’d seen a woman outside the restaurant window with blonde hair. But when she looked again no one was there. Of course not. “Vegetable red curry,” she said.

She felt Bridget’s hand on her shoulder as her girlfriend moved across to their end of the table. She wanted to be near Franky, but just at that moment Franky could hardly bear it. She had an absurd impulse to tell Bridget everything. Instead, she placed her arm around her then drank some more beer and laughed when everyone else laughed and nodded occasionally when the intonation of a sentence seemed to demand a response. If she could see Erica just one more time, she would be able to bear it, she told herself. There was someone out there. Obviously it wasn’t Erica, but someone in a dark coat and with blonde hair was outside in the cold. Franky looked at Bridget. She was having an animated conversation with Sylvie about a film they had both seen last week. “No, he just _pretended_ to do it,” she was saying.

Franky stood up, her chair scraping loudly. “Sorry, just gotta go to the ladies’, be back in a minute.”

She went to end of the restaurant, near the stairs that led down to the toilets, then glanced back. No one was watching her: they were all turned to each other, drinking, talking. They looked such a happy group. Franky slipped through the front door and outside. The cold air hit her so that she gasped as she breathed it. She looked around. There she was, a few years down the street, leaning up against a wall and looking at her cell phone. It was Erica.

Franky ran to her. “What the fuck? You’re spying on me?” she hissed. “What the fuck?” Then she kissed her. She buried her face against hers, pushed her lips against hers, and let Erica wrap her arms around her neck as they strained their bodies against each other. Franky pushed her hands through Erica’s hair and yanked her head back until she was looking into her eyes, then said, “You were spying on me, weren’t you? How the fuck did you know I was here?” She rammed Erica up against the wall and held her there while they kissed again.

“I’m sorry,” Erica said when they broke apart. “Your friend Clive invited me to the party. I said no, but knowing you were here I had to come and see you. I couldn’t stop myself. I’m sorry.”

Franky didn’t respond. She looked around then grabbed Erica’s arm roughly and pulled her into a nearby alleyway where they would be out of sight. She slammed her against another wall and undid her coat, pushed her hand under her shirt and felt her breast. Erica moaned and titled her head back as Franky kissed her neck. 

“I’ve gotta go back,” Franky said, still straining against Erica.

She took her hand from Erica’s breast and moved it to her leg, then up her leg and under her skirt. “I’ll be at your place next week.” 

She kissed Erica fiercely again, then broke away. She pushed a finger inside her, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the blonde. “When will you be there? she asked, her eyes boring into Erica’s.

“Monday,” Erica gasped. “Monday after work.”

Franky let her go and raised her hand. Deliberately, so Erica could see, she put her shiny finger into her mouth and licked it.


	7. Chapter 7

Monday morning. Franky drifted along the street, jostled by the rush hour crowds. She had a dull thudding ache between her eyes, a token of the big weekend she had had. She felt like she had drunk her weight in alcohol. Everyone, including Bridget, had a superb time at the birthday party. After the restaurant they had kicked on at _EMV_ , drinking whiskey on the rocks, telling old stories and raucously singing Johnny Cash songs. They virtually had to be kicked out when the doors closed at 3:00am. 

The following day what was supposed to be a light lunch at Bridget’s sister Pauline’s house turned into a massive Sunday session. Franky and Bridget stumbled home well after dark leaving several empty bottles of wine in their wake. Alcohol had been the perfect tonic to get Franky through the weekend. She was able to relax and enjoy herself without being overwhelmed with guilt. Or sidetracked with anticipation.

In the sober light of day that anticipation had returned in full force. She would be seeing Erica straight after work, but she had no idea how she would have a productive eight hours at work when the thought of what would happen when she saw Erica dominated her thoughts. 

It had been audacious move by Erica to show up outside Bridget’s birthday party. On one hand, Franky was furious with Erica for her actions. If she or they had been caught it could have at best fucked up the party and at worst it could have fucked up her relationship with Bridget. On the other hand, the thought of Erica going out of her way to secretly watch her turned Franky on. She would bet money that Erica used to do that when they were both at Wentworth, given the access she would have had to CCTV footage. Erica sneaking around like that showed her naughty side, and Franky had a healthy appreciation for that naughty side.

It wasn’t the first time Franky had felt a potent mix of anger and arousal toward Erica Davidson. It was what inspired her to finally kiss Erica for the first time in the corner of the governor’s office at Wentworth. However, she was out of prison now and had far more freedom to act on her feelings. When she saw Erica there was bound to be fireworks of some kind.

*****

That morning, Franky became aware how naturally working as a lawyer came to her. She’d wished she’d discovered it earlier. Nobody seemed to notice how preoccupied she was, that she was paying the minimum amount of attention. At the morning meeting for the articled clerks she said very little but was congratulated afterwards by Louise for being so incisive. Sylvie said almost the same thing when she dropped by her desk to chat shortly afterwards. “You always seem so in control of things, Franks,” she had said with a hint of envy.

Sylvie’s comment got Franky thinking. Being in control was something that she had always wanted and strived for. Her desire for it was born from having so little of it for so many years of her life. As a child she couldn’t stop her father from leaving, or her mother from abusing her; and once she was in foster care she had no choice where or who she lived with. Then, of course, there were her four years in prison where a myriad things were outside her control. That included her relationship with Erica. Because of their respective positions within the prison Erica was able to call the shots, particularly in regard to when and where they saw each other. It was maddening.

It occurred to Franky that without her even noticing, she had allowed Erica control over their relationship again. Erica had chosen to come and see her the night of Bridget’s party. During their brief interlude in the alleyway, she allowed Erica to tell her what time she would be home on Monday so that Franky could come around. Effectively, she had allowed Erica to call the shots regarding when and where they saw each other. This wasn’t how Franky wanted things to work anymore. She needed to take charge. And she knew that whether she was aware of it or not, Erica _wanted_ her to take charge. 

Franky stood up from her swivel office chair and stretched out an imaginary kink in her back. She looked around the office. Everyone seemed busy and focused on their work. Louise was in court so wasn’t keeping tabs on her. The brief she was working on was very nearly finished and would keep til the afternoon. So she decided to go for it. She grabbed her satchel and went to Louise’s secretary’s desk, telling her she had to go down to Victoria Legal Aid to speak to someone for research purposes. The secretary didn’t bat an eye. Franky was out the door.

In the elevator on the way down to the street Franky quickly checked the map on her phone which confirmed that the offices of Victoria Legal Aid were within walking distance of the offices of Flintoff & Jones. When she reached the sidewalk she began walking briskly toward her destination. She stopped only briefly when the route happened to take her past one of her favourite stores. She quickly dropped in and bought something to give to Erica. She thought it would add an extra surprise factor to her unannounced visit.

******

The Victoria Legal Aid building was rather basic compared to the lavish building that housed the offices of Flintoff & Jones. There were small glass doors at the entrance rather than large revolving doors, and the small foyer area that led to the elevators was covered with old carpet rather than opulent marble. Nevertheless, Erica was clearly high up on the food chain. Her name appeared on the directory beside the elevator and Franky noted that her office was located on the twelfth floor - the highest floor of the building.

Franky took the elevator up and when she stepped out immediately came upon a receptionist, a middle-aged woman who had the assured look of someone who had been working there for many years. “May I help you?” she asked as Franky approached the desk.

“Sure can. Franky Doyle here to see Erica Davidson.”

The receptionist checked her computer. “You don’t appear to have an appointment, Ms. Doyle. Is Ms. Davidson expecting you?”

“Nope, I don’t think she is.”

“She will be leaving for court in thirty minutes so will not want to be disturbed, may I make an appointment for you to see her tomorrow?”

“Thirty minutes is all I need. If you check with her I’m sure she’ll be willing to see me.” 

The receptionist frowned, but grudgingly picked up her phone and called through to Erica. Franky waited confidently, knowing what the response would be. Sure enough, the receptionist soon put down the phone and stood up to lead her to Erica’s office. “Right this way, Ms. Doyle.”

Franky had a sense of deja vu. Being escorted to Erica’s office was an experience she had had many times before. Sure it was a receptionist rather than a guard who was escorting her and they were at a law office now, not a prison, but the feeling was still very familiar. That feeling intensified when she stepped into an office that was eerily similar to the governor’s office that Erica once occupied. 

On her left hand side as Franky entered the room, Erica was typing on a computer that sat on an L-shaped desk. Large windows provided views to the Melbourne cityscape on one side of the room and to the inside of the office building on the other. The room was painted a deep burgundy and floral-themed artwork hung on the walls.

The receptionist closed the door behind her as she left, leaving Franky alone with a pleasantly surprised but slightly shaky looking Erica. The blonde stood up and walked out from behind her desk to greet her. “Franky, what brings you here?” she asked with a hint of nervousness.

Franky walked towards her but kept a professional distance. She tapped on her satchel. “Got a present for you,” she said with a cocky smile.

Erica furrowed her brow. “A present?”

“Yep,” Franky began strolling casually around the room, scoping it out. “But the thing is, I don’t want anyone else to see it. So you better close those blinds,” she gestured to the interior window that looked out into the rest of the office.

Erica sighed. “Franky, I’m really sorry but I need to leave for court soon. Could we catch up after work like we planned?”

“You don’t want the present?”

“I do, but…”

“Then close the blinds. It won’t take long.”

Franky was steadfast. Erica gave her a discerning look. After a few moments contemplation she moved over to the window and closed the blinds.

“You better lock the door, too,” Franky said.

Erica sighed again. “Franky…”

“Just do it. Trust me.” 

Erica reluctantly locked the door then walked back into the room, taking a seat on the edge of her desk and looking at Franky expectantly. But Franky didn’t retrieve the present from her satchel. Instead she walked forward until she was face to face with Erica.

“You were a bad girl on Saturday night, Miss Davidson,” she said in a wicked tone, before she moved her head toward Erica and tried to kiss her. Erica jerked her head back out of range, her hands moved back onto the desk.

“Franky, I can’t do this right now. I’m getting ready for court.”

Franky ignored the comment. Instead she removed her satchel from her shoulder and placed it on the desk beside Erica. Then she slid her hands onto the blonde’s hips.

“You like that, don’t you? When I call you a bad girl?” she tried to kiss Erica again but this time she only half denied her, keeping her mouth closed instead of jerking away. Franky moved her hands to Erica’s wrists, gripping them firmly so her hands were pinned to the desk. Erica’s body began to react to Franky’s advances. She opened her mouth and let Franky’s tongue to thrust into hers with aggression. She returned the kiss, letting their tongues battle. Franky released one of Erica’s wrists so her hand could grab the back of her head, but Erica kept her hands where they were, not using them to struggle. 

“I want to see your hot tits again,” Franky swiftly undid the buttons on Erica’s shirt and pushed her bra straps over her shoulders so she could pull down the cups, releasing Erica’s breasts without taking her bra off. She put her mouth over one of Erica’s nipples and sucked hard, making Erica gasp at the savagery. The intensity of the suction radiated through Erica’s body, shooting to between her legs. Whatever reluctance she had seconds earlier had evaporated and was now replaced by pure animal sexuality. She let out a long desperate groan.

“Tell me what I want to hear,” Franky’s face had come back to Erica’s, her hands now tweaking her nipples with rough pinches.

Erica was having trouble breathing. “I’m a bad girl,” she said in a hoarse whisper. Franky reached down to put a hand under her skirt, pulling aside her panties to swipe two fingers between her folds. Erica whimpered as a knuckle grazed her clit, then Franky’s hand came back up and she stuck her fingers in Erica’s eager mouth. Erica reached to paw at Franky’s breast through her top but Franky batted her hand away, shaking her head like Erica had done something wrong.

She grabbed Erica’s hips and turned her around, pushing at her back so she bent over the desk. She hiked Erica’s skirt up over her waist and yanked her panties down to her knees. She pushed two fingers inside her. Erica gasped at the pressure but her body responded with more lubrication and on the second thrust Franky could reach deep inside her.

Franky wasted no time in picking up a quick rhythm, pumping her fingers into Erica with long strokes, Erica’s hips swaying onto them as she gripped the desk for balance. Without breaking stride, Franky reached across the desk and grabbed her satchel with her free hand. “You can have your present now,” she whispered into Erica’s ear.

Franky removed her fingers from inside Erica and retrieved a small shopping bag from her satchel. Still bent over the desk, Erica looked back in amazement as Franky pulled a strap-on out of the bag, then stepped into the harness without even removing her pants. 

“Do you want it?” Franky asked. Erica didn’t respond, she only reached back to pull the dildo towards her sex once Franky had fastened it around her waist. Franky spit on her hand and wet the shaft and pushed the tip against Erica’s centre. Erica covered her own mouth with her hand as she cried out when Franky thrust the dildo hard inside her. She pulled it out, waited a few moments, then pushed it back inside, this time with greater ease. She felt the head move over Erica’s sensitive ridge and penetrate deep within her. Franky began to pump, in short strokes at first but as Erica got wetter she was able to take longer strokes each time pushing deeper.

“You like getting fucked don’t you?”

“Uh-huh…harder…” It was all Erica could manage between pants. Franky complied with her request. She grabbed Erica’s hips and made them bounce on the dildo, which in turn made her breasts sway from the movement.

Franky was breathing hard as her strokes quickened and she began to feel sweat break her brow. She could sense Erica was plunging towards orgasm so she grabbed her hair pulling her head back in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Are you going to come for me?” Erica could only respond with muffled moans as the dildo pumped inside of her. Franky let go of Erica’s hair and ran her hand around her front to apply pressure to her clit. It immediately sent her over the edge.

“Oh fuck!” Erica slammed her hand on the desk as the orgasm powered through her, rippling outward from her centre to her extremities, turning her body into jelly. Franky continued to torture her sensitivity with long strokes, making her twitch and squirm on the desk. Eventually Erica couldn’t take it any longer and she straightened to let the dildo pop out and immediately got down on her knees to go down on the strap on to taste herself.

Franky looked down at Erica and licked her lips. She was still panting from the exercise. Erica stood up and pulled Franky’s face to hers for and they shared a hard deep kiss, gasping into each other’s mouths for air. Erica unbuckled Franky’s harness and let it fall and pushed the younger woman back against the desk. 

Franky feverishly fumbled with the fly of her pants. She scrunched them down to her knees which was enough to push Erica’s head down to between her legs. She held her there tight against her sex, only allowing her to reach her tongue out to rake against her moist clit.

Franky had a vice like grip on Erica’s head but the blonde didn’t seem to care, it just made her lick harder and quicker. She reached her hand up to glide a finger into Franky’s entrance, then removed it and replaced it with two, pushing them deep into her.

“Yeah fuck me like that,” Franky moaned softly as Erica pumped her fingers into her. Franky’s nails dug into Erica’s scalp with every insertion, Erica’s tongue still working on her swollen clit.

“Oh my fucking God!” Franky gasped as her body buckled and she felt herself contract and release on Erica’s fingers as her body trembled through her orgasm. Erica removed her fingers and Franky released her grip on Erica’s head, sinking down to the floor, their foreheads rested against each other as they each caught their breath.

******

It was only a minute or two before both women had to snap back into reality. Erica really did have to get to court and Franky needed to return to the office and get back to work. They helped each other neaten clothes, hair and makeup, then walked together out of the Victoria Legal Aid building. Even the inquisitive secretary at the front desk didn’t seem to suspect that anything out of the ordinary had occurred in Erica’s office.

When they parted ways on the street Franky sneakily slid a hand around Erica’s hip and kissed her on the cheek. “See you tonight, babe,” she said with a flirtatious smile before walking back to her office with a spring in her step.


	8. Chapter 8

The following days were a blur of lunchtimes, early evenings, one whole night when Bridget was away at a conference, a blur of sex and of snuggling and of effortless conversations. And Franky lied and lied and lied, as she had never done before in her life, to Bridget and to friends and to people at work. She was forced to fabricate a series of alternative fictional worlds of appointments and meetings and visits behind which she could live her secret life with Erica. The effort of making sure that the lies were consistent, of remembering what she had said to which person, was enormous. And the longer it went on the more Franky craved that her time with Erica was not her secret life but her actual life.

One Saturday afternoon at her apartment, Erica had pulled on some clothes to buy something for she and Franky to eat. When she had left, Franky wrapped the duvet around her, went to the window and watched her head across the road toward the market. After she had vanished from view, Franky looked at other people walking along the street, in a hurry to get somewhere, or dawdling, looking in windows. How could they get through their lives without the passion that she was feeling? How could they think it was important to get on at work or to plan their holiday or buy something when what mattered in life was this, the way she was feeling?

Everything in her life outside that Prahran apartment seemed a matter of indifference. At work she was impersonating a busy, ambitious law clerk. She still cared about her friends, she just didn’t want to see them. Her home felt like an office or a supermarket, somewhere she had to pass through occasionally in order to fulfil an obligation. And Bridget. That was the bad bit. She felt like somebody on a runaway train. Somewhere ahead, there was an end point that could be disaster or could be rapture, but for the moment all she could feel was delirious speed. Erica reappeared around the corner. She looked up at the window and saw Franky. She smiled and quickened her pace. Franky was her magnet; she Franky’s.

When they had finished eating take away burgers and fries, Franky licked some ketchup off Erica’s fingers.

“You know what I like about you?” Erica asked.

“What?”

 _”One_ of the things. You’re not pretentious about food. You’re the best cook I know but you don’t give me hard time for bringing you greasy take away burgers.”

Franky laughed and gave Erica’s finger one last lick. “Hey I’ll eat anything if there’s a chance I can eat it off of you.”

Erica playfully punched Franky in the arm for teasing her. “When I was outside just now, collecting the food, I was thinking about how great it is when you’re here.”

“Yeah it is,” said Franky.

“Yes, but I suppose I was also secretly thinking that one day I’d like us to go out there, into the world. I mean both of us, together, in some way. Meet people, do things, you know.” Erica looked nervous, Franky thought she might have even detected the blonde’s hands shaking. “It depends what you want, of course.”

Franky frowned. “I want to be with you. Do those things,” she said, then sighed. “But it’s complicated.’

“Yes,” Erica said, not really knowing what “yes” meant. They were silent for a while before she continued talking. “We’ve spoken about a lot of things these past few weeks - jobs, friends, politics, television, travel. I love being with you, whether we’re talking or making love or eating dinner or whatever. But I feel like we can’t keep avoiding asking each other the big questions.”

Franky looked at Erica. She looked so adorable when she was nervous. Little creases would form between her eyebrows and she would look at Franky with the most innocent-looking eyes. She looked more like a skittish little girl than the intelligent, self-assured lawyer that the rest of the world saw her as. 

Franky knew at that moment that she was in love with Erica. It wasn’t just an ordinary kind of love that millions of people experienced every day. It was a mystical, absolute love that she previously thought didn’t exist. She had always thought that love was biological, Darwinian, pragmatic, circumstantial, effortful, fragile. Now, besotted and reckless, she could no longer remember what she believed and it was as if she had returned to her childish sense of love as something that rescued you from the real world. She no longer wanted to betray that love by keeping things from Erica.

Franky stroked Erica’s blonde hair. “Ok. Ask me anything,” she said.

Erica took a deep breath. “Tell me about your girlfriend.”

Franky sensed this could be a watershed moment in their relationship. She wasn’t sure if Erica was truly ready to hear about her relationship with Bridget. She wanted to give her one last chance to change her mind. “You sure you want to know?” she asked. Erica nodded.

So Franky told her about Bridget. She told her about how they had met and fallen for each other when Bridget was her psychologist at Wentworth. How Bridget had been waiting for her on the day of her release. How their relationship had continued to blossom from there. How they had fallen in love and had shared a home for four years. How she had been welcomed by Bridget’s family. How they shared many friends. And she emphasised the trust that they shared - a trust that she had never felt with someone before or since.

As Franky spoke, Erica was stoic. She just looked at Franky calmly, listened intently, took in every word. Franky thought that Erica would find some details particularly painful - such as the fact that she and Bridget met while Bridget was working at Wentworth, or the comment she made about trust - but if Erica was upset, she didn’t show it. She simply gave Franky her full attention without interrupting or passing judgement. However, when Franky had finished speaking she had no words to offer in response. Instead she looked down into her lap, her expression unreadable.

Franky knew Erica. This was her trying to mask her feelings, pretend that she was unaffected. It was an act that Franky saw through. She’d seen through it since she first met Erica years earlier. She reached out her hand and pushed up Erica’s chin so she could look her in the eye.

“That stuff was hard to hear, yeah?

Erica gave a short nod.

“Listen Erica, you know the connection that we have. It’s more intense than anything I’ve ever experienced. You’ve gotta believe in that connection. I do.”

A hint of a smile appeared on Erica’s face.

“We’re gonna be together,” Franky continued in a serious tone. “I’ll make sure of it.”

After Franky said those words there was a moment’s pause. The two women looked at each other for a while, letting the promise that Franky had made sink in. It was a verbal acknowledgement that this was more than just an affair or a fling. It was for real. There was a small part of Franky that expected Erica to flee. That subconsciously Erica was glad Franky had a girlfriend because it meant she didn’t have to make a commitment herself. That she would go back to her old habit of running away from her true feelings and what she really wanted. 

But Erica’s reaction was the opposite to that. She looked at Franky with both happiness and relief in her eyes. When she finally responded, Franky could swear Erica almost choked up. “I’m so happy to hear you say that,” she said, then wrapped her arms around Franky’s neck and kissed her in earnest. Franky briefly kissed her back, but then reached back and pulled Erica’s hands from around her neck and held them in front of her. She broke the kiss.

“The only thing is, I can’t tell you exactly when that’s gonna happen,” she said. “I know it’s the biggest fucking cliche ever but I’ve just gotta wait for the right time. I love Bridget and she’s been really good to me. I just don’t want to hurt her any more than I have to.”

Erica looked down at her lap again.

“You gonna be patient with me?” Franky asked. “Please?”

Erica looked back up into her lover’s eyes. “Of course I will,” she said, her face the picture of sincerity.

Franky smiled broadly. “Come here,” she said.

Franky took hold of Erica’s hand and led her down the hall. As soon as they reached Erica’s bedroom, Franky turned to the blonde, pulled her close and began unbuttoning her shirt. Once it was fully unbuttoned she slid the shirt from Erica’s shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She dropped her head to one of Erica’s bare shoulders and kissed her neck softly. Erica’s blonde hair tickled Franky’s face so Franky swung the strands away from the soft white flesh of Erica's shoulder. She placed kiss after kiss on her, from arm to neck and back again. Erica shivered at the touches. Franky ran kisses up to her jaw line, over her cheeks to her full lips, savouring the taste of her and the illicit sensations she triggered.

Erica tipped her head back and Franky kissed down her chin, down her neck, then descended to her breasts, unhooking her delicate lace bra as she did so. She traced her fingers slowly up Erica’s side and tenderly cupped one of them in her hand. Erica bent forward a little and looked down at Franky approaching, willing her on with a lustful expression.

Keeping eye contact, Franky parted her lips and took the tip of Erica’s nipple between them. Erica closed her eyes and sighed appreciatively. Franky began to draw her tongue in circles, taking delight in the fluttering breaths she set off from Erica. The blonde moaned softly when Franky drew her nipple fully into her warm mouth, sucking gently. 

Franky slowly ran her hands down Erica’s body, savouring the feel of her hips and stomach. When her hands reached the waistband of Erica’s jeans she broke the contact with her breast and kneeled down in front of her. With deliberate slow movements she unfastened the button and zip of the jeans, then gradually eased them down to the floor. Erica stepped out of the pooled material and Franky spun her finger in the air, indicating that she should turn around.

Erica faced the wall and placed her palms against it, feet slightly apart as if she was about to be frisked. Franky ran her hands all the way up her toned legs and caressed the flesh of behind before she hooked her fingers into the waistband of her panties and dragged them ever so slowly to the floor.

Franky drank in every soft curve of Erica’s body. She leant forward and placed kisses alternately on each thigh while she ran her hands up over the blonde’s hips. Franky fought hard to control herself, taking her time trailing her lips up the small of Erica’s back and placing soft kisses on her sensitive skin. She could see goose bumps forming as she moved upwards, kneeling up then standing behind Erica. Franky swiftly removed her own clothing until she stood only in her underwear, then pressed her body against Erica’s. She slid her hands around Erica’s midriff and cupped both breasts, massaging them gently. Erica purred with pleasure and Franky planted kisses in the nape of her neck and along her shoulders, each more insistent than the last. She kissed her way to one of Erica’s ears, nibbled the tip and whispered, “Let’s go to bed.”

Erica didn’t need to be told twice. She made her way to the bed and climbed on top of the sheets then lay back and rested her head on the pillows. Franky crawled onto the bed to join her, kneeling down at her feet. She ran her hands up the front of Erica’s legs and gently spread her thighs and manoeuvred between them. Franky’s primal instincts bubbled to the surface and there was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to go down on Erica. She pushed the blonde’s legs further apart and lowered her head toward her sex.

Starting at the base of Erica’s lips, Franky dove forward and ran her tongue lengthwise toward her clit. Franky moaned in pleasure along with Erica, then went back for more. At the top of each stroke she circled her tongue around Erica’s clit, causing her to gasp each time. Erica became more vocal when Franky switched attention solely to her sensitive clit. She licked directly over and around her hard centre, each time eliciting a moan that echoed around the bedroom. 

Urging Franky on with both her cries and her hands gripping her dark brown locks, Erica quickly approached orgasm. Her gasps came more insistently and closer together and her legs squeezed against Franky’s ears. Franky alternated tongue-fucking her and teasing her clit, causing Erica to thrust up against her face, desperate for release. Seconds later Erica let out a loud cry and her legs gripped Franky’s head in place, covering her ears and forcing her to stay pressed against her centre.

Franky let Erica ride it out, enjoying the feel of her fluttering contractions against her face, aware of her panting in the distance. Eventually Erica’s legs released Franky’s head and she collapsed back against the bed, putting her forearm over her eyes. A smile spread across her face and she was still breathing heavily.

Slowly disentangling herself, Franky knelt up between Erica’s thighs and gazed down at her. It was an incredible high to see Erica in the aftermath of an intense orgasm. Franky was not only turned on by what had just happened; the emotional connection she felt with Erica at that moment was enough to make her skin tingle. She climbed from between Erica’s legs and lay on her side beside her. Erica leant over for a long, slow, smouldering kiss. Their lips explored, tongues gradually peeking out, wrapping round each other, dancing slowly inside their mouths. When they broke the kiss they lay there contentedly in each other’s arms.

“We’re going to be together, I promise,” Franky whispered.

“I can’t wait.”


	9. Chapter 9

“You’ve been busy lately.”

“Pressure of work,” Franky lied.

There was one person she hadn’t felt able to put off. She used to meet Bridget’s sister Pauline almost every week for lunch. Today she was walking along with her while she did some shopping. They bought a couple of sandwiches from a bar in Lygon Street, then queued at a coffee shop.

Franky immediately knew she’d said the wrong thing. They never said things like “pressure of work” to each other. She felt like a double agent.

“How’s Bridget?” Pauline asked.

“Very fine,” Franky said, cringing at herself for sounding so awkward. “She’s got a full book of clients … Gidge is great. She’s absolutely great.”

Pauline looked at Franky with a new concern. “Is everything all right, Franky? Remember, this is my big sister you’re talking about. If anybody describes Bridget as absolutely great, there must be some kind of a problem.”

Franky laughed and Pauline laughed and the moment passed. Pauline bought a large bag of coffee beans and two takeaway lattes and they walked slowly towards Princes Park and found a bench. Franky relaxed a bit. It was a sunny, clear, but cold day, and the coffee burned her lips pleasantly.

“How’s married life?” she asked.

Pauline looked at her very seriously. She was a striking woman whose straight dark hair could suggest severity, if you didn’t know better. “I’ve stopped taking the Pill,” she said.

“Fuck!” Franky said. “Are you read for this? Isn’t it a bit too soon?”

“It’s always too soon, I think,” Pauline said. “Anyway, nothing’s happened yet.”

“So you haven’t started standing on your head after sex, or whatever it is you’re meant to do?”

They chatted about fertility and pregnancy and maternity leave and the more they talked the worse Franky felt. Up to this moment, she had thought of Erica as a strictly private betrayal. She knew she was doing something awful to Bridget but now, looking at Pauline, her cheeks flushed red in the cold but also with the excitement, maybe, of impending pregnancy, and her hands clutched round the coffee, and the mist from between her narrow lips, Franky had a sudden mad sense that all of it was operating under a misapprehension. The world wasn’t as Pauline thought it was and it was Franky’s fault. 

They both looked at their empty coffee cups, laughed and stood up. Pauline gave Franky a close hug and pushed her face against hers.

“Thanks,” Franky said.

“What for?”

“I don’t think everyone’s ever trusted me enough to tell me they are trying for a baby before.”

“Oh Franky,” Pauline said reprovingly. “I couldn’t not tell you _that_.”

Franky casually looked at her phone as they broke away from their embrace. “I’ve gotta go,” she said suddenly. It was later than she thought and she was supposed to meet with Erica shortly. “I’m meeting up with Doreen and Joshie,” she lied.

“Where?”

“Oh,” Franky said taken aback. “In, er, Prahran.”

“I’ll take the tram with you. It’s on my way.”

“Sounds good,” Franky said, in anguish.

On the tram Pauline talked about her ex-boyfriend Guy, who had broken off with her suddenly and brutally not much more than eighteen months earlier.

“Do you remember the way I was then?” she asked, with a little grimace and looking, for the moment, just like her sister. Franky nodded, thinking frantically about how she was to handle this. Should she pick a shop at random and pretend Doreen was going to meet her there? Or a cafe, even though she’d just had coffee with Pauline? “Of course you do. You saved my life. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for all you and Bridget did for me then.” She held up her bag of coffee. “I probably drank about that much coffee in your house while crying into your whiskey. God, I thought I would never be able to cross the road again on my own, let alone function and be happy.”

Franky tapped Pauline on the knee. They say that the best friends are those who can simply listen and if that were true then Franky was the best of all friends during that tram ride. This was it, she said to herself, the terrible punishment for all her deceptions.

They alighted from the tram and walked along Chapel St. After a couple of blocks, Franky saw a familiar figure walking in front of them. Erica. Her brain dulled and she thought she might even be going to faint. She turned and saw an open shop door. It was to some sort of delicatessen. She couldn’t speak but she seized Pauline’s hand and pulled her inside.

“What?” Pauline asked in alarm.

“I need some …” she looked into the glass case on the counter. “Some …” The word wouldn’t come.

“Parmesan,” said Pauline.

“Parmesan,” Franky agreed. “And other things.”

Pauline looked around. “But there such a long queue. It’s Saturday.”

“I’ve got to.”

“Pauline looked indecisive, shifting from one foot to another. She looked at her watch. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’d better get back.”   


“Yes,” Franky said, in relief.

“What?”

“That’s fine,” Franky said. “Just go. I’ll text you.”

They kissed each other on the cheek and Pauline left. Franky counted to ten, then looked out into the street. Pauline had gone. Franky looked down at her hands. They were steady, but her mind reeled.

******

That night, Franky dreamed that someone was cutting off her legs with a kitchen knife, and she was letting them. She knew she mustn't scream, or complain, because she had deserved it. She woke in the early hours, sweating and confused, and for a moment she couldn’t tell who it was she was lying next to. She put out her hand and felt warm flesh. Bridget’s eyes flickered open. “Hello, Franky,” she said, and returned to sleep, so peaceful. Franky couldn’t go on like this.

******

“Franky,” said Bridget, at the same time as Franky said, “Gidget.”

“Sorry, go on,” Franky said.

“No, you first.”

They were sitting on the sofa with mugs of tea, about six inches apart from each other. It was dark outside, and the curtains were closed. A football game played in front of them on the television. Bridget was wearing an old speckled-grey sweater, faded jeans and no shoes. Her hair was all rumpled up. They had spent the day lazing around the house. Bridget looked at Franky attentively. Franky took a deep breath. “I can’t keep on with this, Gidge.”

The words mustn't have computed in Bridget’s mind at first as the expression on her face didn’t change. Franky made herself go on looking into her kind, blue eyes.

“What?” Bridget asked.

Franky took one of Bridget’s hands and it rested limply in hers. “I have to leave. I have to leave you.”

How could she say it? Every word was like hurling a brick. Bridget looked as if Franky had slapped her really hard, bemused and in pain. Her look made Franky want to take it all back, return to where they had been a minute ago, sitting together on the sofa with their tea. Bridget didn’t say anything.

“I’ve met someone else. I never meant for this …” Franky stopped.

“What do you mean?” Bridget was staring at Franky, as if through a thick fog. “What do you mean, leave? Do you mean you want to stop being with me?”

“Yes.”

The effort of that word rendered Franky speechless. She gazed dumbly at Bridget. She was still holding her hand, but it lay nervelessly in her grasp. 

“Who?” Bridget’s voice cracked a bit. She cleared her throat. “Sorry. Who have you met?”

“Just … I don’t think you know her. It just … God, I’m so sorry, Gidge.”

Bridget passed a hand over her face. “But it doesn’t make any sense. Everything has been going great between us lately. You haven’t been acting any differently towards me.” 

Franky nodded. This was more awful than she could have imagined.

“I thought - I - how did you meet her? _When?_

This time Franky couldn’t meet Bridget’s gaze. “It doesn’t matter, that’s not the point.”

“I can’t understand it. You’re leaving everything? Just like that?” Bridget looked around the room at all their things, the whole weight of the world they had built up together. “Why?”

“I’m just trying to trust in my feelings, Gidge.”

Bridget’s whole body was slack on the sofa. Franky wanted her to shout, get angry or something, and instead she smiled. “Do you know what I was going to say?” Bridget asked.

“No.”

“I was going to say I thought we should have a baby together.”

“Oh, Gidget.”

“I was happy.” Her voice had a muffled quality. “And all the time you were, you were …”

“No, Gidge,” Franky pleaded. “I was happy too. You made me happy.”

“How long have you been seeing her?”

“About six weeks.”

Franky watched Bridget considering, revising the recent past. Her face puckered. She stared away from her, towards the curtained window, and said very formally: “How about we try to work through this together? Try to figure it out? Please.”

Bridget didn’t look at Franky. They both stared ahead, hand in hand. There was a great boulder in Franky’s chest.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Gidge.”

“Please, Franky,” Bridget said again.

“No. I can’t.”

Bridget took her hand out of Franky’s. They sat in silence, and Franky wondered what came next. Should she say something about sorting out her things later? Tears were welling in both women’s eyes. Franky put up a hand to caress Bridget’s cheek but the older woman turned away sharply, angry at last. “God, Franky, what do you want? Do you want to comfort me or something? I can't have you around me right now. Just go.”

Franky left everything. She left all her clothes and her makeup and her jewellery. Her books and magazines. Her photographs. Her satchel full of documents from work. Her bunch of keys. She took her wallet, her phone and her thick black coat and headed out into the cold.

******

Franky felt a desperate urge to see Erica, but after what had just transpired with Bridget she told herself she didn’t deserve to. Perhaps it would be a small sign of respect to her and Bridget’s relationship that she didn’t rush to Erica’s apartment the night that they had broken up. She didn’t feel like seeing her friends. She had wild thoughts of sleeping in the street, or on a park bench, but even self-punishment had its limits. Where could she find somewhere cheap to stay? It occurred to her she had never stayed in a hotel in Melbourne before. She checked her phone, located the closet one to her, and walked the eight blocks that led to it. 

When she reached the hotel, sitting at the front desk was a very fat man. He said something urgently to Franky that she couldn’t understand because of his accent. Franky looked around and realised that the hotel was extremely seedy - two-star at best. Maybe she would have been better off on a park bench. “Can I get a room?” she asked the man.

The man nodded his head and carried on talking. Franky wasn’t even sure if he was talking to her or shouting at somebody in the room behind. She wondered if he thought she was a prostitute, but no prostitute could have been as casually dressed as she was. Yet she had no luggage. A little corner of her mind was amused by the thought of what kind of person he took her for. She extracted a credit card from her wallet and put it on the desk. He took it and scanned it. She signed a piece of paper without looking at it. He handed her a key card.

“Is there a mini bar?” she asked.

“No mini bar,” he shouted.

Franky felt as if she had asked for a cup of meths. She considered whether to go out for a drink but couldn’t face it. She took the key and went up two flights of stairs to her room. It wasn’t so bad. There was a wash-basin and a window looking down on a stone yard and across at the back of another house on the other side. She pulled the curtain shut. She was in a hotel room in Melbourne on her own with nothing. She stripped down to her underwear and got into bed. She got out of the bed and chain-locked the door, then dived under the covers again. She didn’t cry. She didn’t lie awake all night pondering her life. She went to sleep straight away. But she left the bedside lamp on.

She woke up late, dull-headed, but not depressed. She got up, took her bra and knickers off and washed herself in the basin. There were communal showers down the hall but she vowed she would never use a communal shower again after Wentworth. She dressed and went downstairs. There seemed to be nobody around. She looked in at a dining room where all the tables had plastic chairs around them. She heard voices from somewhere and could smell fried bacon. A woman entered the room from a different door who was a similar age and shape as the man she had met the night before. Franky guessed it was his wife. 

“I was leaving,” Franky said.

“You want breakfast?” said the woman, smiling. “There’s eggs, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, beans, cereal.”

Franky shook her head weakly.

“You paid already.”

Franky accepted some coffee and drank it alone at one of the tables. Before she left, the woman looked at her with a concerned expression. “You all right?”

“Yeah, why?” Franky replied sternly.

“You stay another night?”

Franky shook her head again and left. It was cold outside but at least it was dry. She stopped and thought, orienting herself. She walked to the nearest tram stop and jumped on the next tram to Prahran. When she arrived she looked around the shops for a while. She bought some lemon-scented wipes, a toothbrush, mascara and eyeliner from a chemist and then some underwear. In Malvern Road she found a decent clothes shop. She took a black shirt and a simple jacket into the changing room. She put on her new underwear as well, wiped her face and neck with the wipes until her skin stung, then applied some makeup. It was an improvement.

At just after ten, she rang her boss, Louise. She had intended to make up something about having gastro or some other contagious illness, but once she got her on the line, some odd impulse made her fall back on partial honesty. She told Louise that she was having a personal crisis that she had to deal with and was not in the the right frame of mind to appear in the office the next day. She must have caught Louise in a soft mood as she had never heard her show so much sympathy.

“Take the week off,” Louise concluded. “Your work has been exemplary since you’ve arrived at the firm, you’ve earned a leave pass. I’ll think of something to tell the other clerks.”

“Just remember to tell me what it is before I see them.”

From Malvern Road it was only a few minutes walk to Erica’s apartment. When Franky reached the street door she realised that she had almost no idea what she was going to say to her. She stood there for several minutes but nothing occurred to her. The door was unlocked so she walked up the stairs and knocked on the apartment door. It opened. Erica was still in her satin nightie, her hair mussed up into a pony tail. She looked alarmingly beautiful.

Franky fixed a goofy smile on her face and leant her hand on the door jamb. “Honey, I’m home,” she said in a cheerful tone.

Erica looked deeply into Franky’s green eyes. She saw the truth in them and the pain behind them. Franky didn’t have to tell her what had happened, it was obvious. Erica grabbed Franky’s hand, dragged her into the apartment, closed the door behind them and pulled her into a loving embrace. Franky buried her face in Erica’s neck. The enormity of what had happened in the past twenty-four hours finally hit her. She shed a few tears, but she felt safe. Safe in the knowledge that she was where she wanted to be and where she belonged.


	10. Chapter 10

“I need to get dressed.”

Erica had just been woken up by her phone alarm. 

“Why do you need to get dressed?” Franky’s face was a few inches away from Erica’s. She tucked some strands of blonde hair behind Erica’s ear, then trailed her finger down her neck. “You look perfect like that.”

Erica laughed. “Come on.”

Franky’s expression didn’t change. “I’m serious. When I woke up this morning, I thought I must have been dreaming. I’ve been laying here, just looking at you sleep.” Franky pulled the sheet off Erica’s breasts and covered them with her hands instead. She kissed Erica’s forehead, her eyelids, then her lips, gently at first, and then hard. Erica slid her hands down Franky’s back, on to her buttocks and pulled her close. They both sighed, and shifted their bodies slightly; Erica’s heart pounded against Franky’s, or was it Franky’s heard pounding against Erica’s? The room smelt of sex, and the sheets were still slightly damp.

“For work, Franky,” Erica said. “I need to get dressed for work. It’s Monday and as much as I’d like to, I can’t spend the whole day in bed like yesterday.”

“Why?” Franky kissed the side of Erica’s neck. “Why can’t you? Just call in sick.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? You’ve done it before.”

“I’ve got a lot on today. If I go in I’ll be able to get everything done. Then I should be able to arrange to have the next couple of days off. So we’ll have two days together instead of one.”

Franky extracted her lips from Erica’s neck, looked down at her and smiled. “Ok, deal,” she gave Erica a devilish grin. “But it’s still early,” she very deliberately sucked her index and middle fingers and slid them inside Erica. “Don’t go just yet.”

“Ten minutes. Ah, Christ, Franky …”

 

******

Moseying around Erica’s apartment, Franky thought about the blonde all morning. Her body throbbed with the memory of her. But she also thought about Bridget and about the whole world that she and Bridget had belonged to together. There was a bit of her that couldn’t comprehend how it was that she was sitting on Erica’s couch, casually drinking a coffee, when she had thrown a bomb into her old life and washed it explode. She tried to imagine everything that had happened since she had left. Probably Bridget would have told Pauline, at least. And Pauline would have told everyone else. They would all meet up for drinks and talk about it and wonder and be shocked, and try to comfort Bridget. Although Bridget was such a strong woman she probably wouldn’t need much comforting. And Franky, who had for so long been an established part of the group, would have become the object of their gossipy, shocked exchanges. Everyone would have an opinion of her; their own emphatic version.

If she had left that world - and she supposed that she had - she saw no point in wallowing or dwelling on the things that she might miss. She intended to embrace the things she had now and the things she had to look forward to. As she sat on the couch and counted down the hours until Erica got home from work, she reflected on how little she knew about Erica. She still didn’t know much about her past or her planned future. She didn’t know what exactly had happened in her relationship with her ex-fiance, or about any other relationships Erica had had. She didn't know if Erica had been with other women before her, or how her friends and family felt about the prospect of her being with a woman. But the thought of the unknown did not scare Franky at all. In fact, the more she realised she had to learn about Erica, the more she longed for her. She couldn’t wait to find out everything there was to know.

Louise had given her the week off. That was a hugely generous gesture from her boss. Erica had sounded confident she would be able to take a couple of days’ leave. They may as well make the most of it, Franky thought. They should get out of the city for a couple of days and enjoy themselves. Or more importantly, enjoy each other.

Franky new exactly where she wanted to take Erica. She wanted them to get some fresh air and escape to the outdoors. Their entire relationship up to this point had existed only in Erica’s apartment. Prior to that all their interactions had taken place within the confines of a prison. It was time they broke the shackles and celebrated their newfound freedom. They needed to get out into the open spaces.

Nearly all Franky’s things were still at Bridget’s house but if it they only went away for two or three days she wouldn’t need much anyway. She took an hour to duck down to the shops and buy some things. At a more upscale store she bought a pair of skinny jeans and a satin shirt that she could wear out for dinner or drinks. She also had some more active pursuits in mind for the trip, so she went to _Cotton On_ for some sweat pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. In the same vein, she went to a sports store for some sneakers and a bag to pack her things in. 

While she genuinely planned to spend time with Erica outside of the bedroom, Franky also couldn’t resist paying a quick visit to _Club X_ for some supplies. Best to be prepared in case the mood were to strike them - she had a good feeling Erica’s inhibitions would be lessened when she was on vacation.

When Erica returned home later that afternoon she confirmed that she had procured two days off. She was both intrigued and receptive to Franky’s suggestion of a mini getaway. Franky kept their destination a secret but instructed Erica to pack something comfortable that she could hike in and something sexy to go out in. They agreed to leave first thing the following morning.

****** 

Erica stayed awake long enough to see that they were leaving the city on the M1 but then, as she always did when being driven anywhere, she fell asleep. When she was jolted awake for a moment, she saw that they were surrounded by hilly and forest-like terrain.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“It’s a mystery tour,” Franky said, with a smile.

Erica drifted off to a half-sleep and when she woke up properly noticed an old church by the road amongst the woody landscape. “Eadmund with an A,” she said sleepily.

“He lost his head,” said Franky, beside her.

“What?”

“He was an Anglo-Saxon king. The Vikings caught him and killed him and cut him up and scattered his body all over the place. His followers couldn’t find him and there was a miracle. The head shouted, ‘Here I am,’ until they found it.”

Erica smiled, impressed as always by the breadth of Franky’s knowledge. “I wish that bunches of keys did that. I’ve often wished my house keys would shout, ‘Here I am,’ so that I won’t have to search every single pocket of everything I own to find them.”

Franky began to slow down the car and followed some signs that led to a car park located in a clearing within the bushland. Erica didn’t recognise the site but the name on the signs was familiar to her. They were at the foot of the 1000 Steps, a well-known walking trail in the Dandenong Ranges.

“Keen for a walk?” Franky asked as she pulled into a parking space and switched off the engine.

“Sure,” Erica said warily. They were both wearing their active wear so she had thought it probable they would be doing something energetic, but she worried this might test her fitness. She was in great shape courtesy of her healthy eating habits but she didn’t exercise frequently. She saw the eagerness on Franky’s face, however, which made her more than willing to go along.

Franky collected their phones and wallets and put them in a small carry bag she had found at Erica’s house. They got out of the car and Franky took Erica’s hand as they walked to the start of the hiking trail.

“A word of warning, I might not be able to keep up with you,” Erica said. “I’ve never done a big hike like this before.

“You’ll be fine. I know you’ve got good stamina,” Franky winked at Erica. “Besides this isn’t as strenuous as it sounds. It’s steep, but it’ll only take us about half an hour to get to the top.”

Franky released Erica’s hand when they reached the trail so they could both concentrate on keeping their balance on the hike. As the name suggested, there were a lot of stony steps along the way and they were slippery at times. As Erica suspected, the steepness of the walk was a test for her fitness. Regardless she was able to keep up with Franky and resisted the urge to stop and catch her breath at the shady rest stops that occasionally appeared along the path.

They both got into a zone as focused on the hike, getting lost in the rhythm of their steps. As they approached the summit, Erica was almost startled when Franky broke their reverie.

“I climbed Mt Bogong when I was in high school,” she said. “It was on a school excursion. I was so stoked that my foster parents actually let me go. I thought because it’s the highest mountain in the state it’d be the best hike I’d ever do. But when I got to the top, I felt nothing. I looked around but …” She made a contemptuous gesture. “There was nothing spectacular about what I saw from up there. I didn’t have any magical feeling.”

They climbed the final step and walked out onto a small glade. It provided a spectacular view of the ranges with its lush green forest and bushland. 

“But this. This is the landscape I love,” Franky said with a smile, puffing from the exhaustion of the walk. She moved behind Erica and put her arms around her waist. They admired the view together. “When I first did this hike, I thought it was one of the most breathtaking spots I had ever seen. On paper some other hikes might sound more impressive because they’re the highest or the most technically challenging, but to me the thing that matters most is the feeling that you get when you look out from the top. This is the place that gave me that magical feeling I was looking for.”

“It’s incredible,” Erica said between heavy breaths as she looked out across the landscape.

“I wanted to bring you here, Erica, because I feel the exact same way about you. I’ve been with women that sounded like they’d be perfect for me on paper, but when I was with them I didn’t feel any spark. It’s totally different with you, though. I get a magical feeling when I’m with you. That’s the most important thing to me. Now that I’m with you I never want to let you go.”

Erica turned in Franky’s arms. She looked at her with a smile that was beautiful and genuine. A feeling of extraordinary joy rose up in Franky at seeing that smile. Erica kissed her on the mouth, firmly: a pledge. “I’ll never let go,” she said. She held Franky’s head and kissed her mouth, her jaw and the hollow of her neck. “Ever,” she whispered. They remained locked in an embrace for several minutes, letting the feeling wash over them.

“Come on,” Franky said eventually, releasing Erica from her arms. “Let’s head back down. Wait until you see where we’re staying tonight…”


	11. Chapter 11

Franky had organised accommodation at a private, self-contained cottage. The website she had booked through boasted that the cottage ensured privacy and relaxation. It was hidden within acres of forested gardens, with natural waterfalls and streams flowing nearby. In the gardened courtyard there was an outdoor spa bath and a wood fire. Inside, the internal walls featured knotty cypress pine and there was heated slate floors. The four poster king size bed was seriously impressive and there was another spa bath in the ensuite. Franky felt like a rockstar of romance for bringing Erica there.

After the strenuous hike up the 1000 Steps both women were in need of a shower. Franky would have loved for them to shower together but she knew what that would lead to. She wanted to take Erica out to dinner before they got caught up with other pursuits. She showered first while Erica unpacked and explored the cottage. When she was done, Franky got dressed in her skinny jeans and shirt and applied some make up.

Franky was able to relax on the oversized sofa and have a glass of wine when Erica took her turn. The blonde spent nearly an hour getting ready. After a long shower she moisturised her body to make her skin soft to touch, before putting on the deep blue bra top dress she had brought to wear out. It came to mid-thigh and hugged her curves, the built in bra provided some lace at the top but more importantly pushed upwards to give her ample cleavage. It made her look incredibly sexy, like a lingerie model. It was a dress she had bought months ago but this was her first opportunity to wear it. She had taken her time over her makeup; enough for sophistication but not to look overdone. She looked great and had made a finishing touch before heading out of the bedroom to meet Franky. On impulse she removed her panties, a sign of the added bit of naughtiness that being with Franky brought out in her.

The closest town to the cottage was ten minutes’ drive away. They called a taxi to take them there. They found a simple restaurant, got a table in a dark corner and had a glass of champagne each. Franky put her hand on Erica’s thigh under the table and Erica stared at the menu, trying to focus. They ate salmon fillets with wild mushrooms and green salad, and had a bottle of sauvignon blanc. Erica’s hands trembled slightly as she tried to cut up the food. Every time Franky touched her under the table she found it difficult to focus.

“Has it ever been like this for you?” Franky asked, and Erica shook her head.

Franky asked about her ex-fiance and Erica stared at her for a moment. “It’s hard to talk about,” she said. Franky waited. If she had left her whole world for Erica, she was going to have to at least talk about her past relationships.

“I was with him for ten years. Engaged for six,” Erica said then.

“Tough break up then?”

“I know it was for the best and I’m glad I broke it off,” Erica took a deep breath. “I just felt awful for leading him on for so long. For wasting ten years of his life. And my life.”

Franky didn’t say anything, she just nodded in understanding.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about tough breakups,” Erica continued. “After everything you’ve just been through.”

“It’s ok, I can handle it.” Franky drank some more wine and signalled to the waiter. “Can we have another bottle please, mate?”

The fresh bottle arrived, the waiter poured two glasses and both women took a sip. Franky took Erica’s hand across the table. “Did you love him?”

“Yes, for a time. But not like this,” Erica said. Franky brushed the back of her fingers across Erica’s cheek. In a way she was jealous of Erica’s ex, that he had spent so much more time with Erica than she had.

“Have you been with a lot of other women?” Erica asked.

“When I’m with you, I know there’s been no one,” Franky replied. It was heartfelt comment, but Erica knew that it was also Franky’s way of admitting there had been lots of other women.

“Why me?” Erica asked.

Franky looked lost in thought. “How could it not be you?” she asked at last.

******

Following dinner, Franky and Erica took a taxi back to the cottage. The heated floors ensured that it was nice and warm inside. Franky turned on the gas log fire and they took a seat on the sofa with glasses of whiskey. By then the alcohol had gone to both women’s heads and the conversation was getting a lot more risqué. The topic still centred around past relationships, but Franky was now more interested in hearing about Erica’s sexual history.

“Have you been with a woman before? Besides me, of course.”

Erica was in the middle of taking a sip when Franky asked the question. She almost choked on the whiskey. “Franky!”

“What?” Franky asked with mock incredulity. “You asked me how many women I’ve been with. Same diff.”

Erica laughed. “Ok, fine. Yes I have.”

Franky's eyes lit up gleefully. “How many?”

“Franky, stop.”

“Tell me.”

“Just one.”

Franky raised her eyebrows. “When was this?”

Erica took a moment to think. “About twelve months ago. It was just a one night thing. A woman that I met at a fundraising event. I haven’t seen her since.”

Franky shuffled closer to Erica on the sofa so their knees were touching. “She seduced you?”

“Yes.”

“And you wanted her?”

“Yes … but not like I want you.” That elicited a sly grin from Franky.

“Tell me what you did with her.”

Erica took another sip from her whiskey. She was settling in to the conversation now, seeing no reason not to answer Franky’s questions. “She took me to her place and we went down on each other.” 

Franky leaned forward and placed her hands on Erica’s knees. “Did she fuck you?” 

Erica swallowed, and shook her head. Her breaths were ever-so-slightly getting shorter.

“Did you want her to?” Franky’s hands rubbed Erica’s thighs, pushing her dress up. Erica parted her legs slightly.

“Yes … but she never asked …”

“I don’t want any more inhibitions from you,” Franky interjected. She leaned closer to Erica, their faces inches apart. Her hands slid to the top of Erica’s thighs. “Just like how you didn’t wear any underwear tonight … you like being naughty don’t you?” Erica whimpered an agreement and reached out to kiss Franky, her control leaving her, pulse racing as she tried to hold onto Franky and find her mouth. But Franky backed away and stood up, then pulled Erica up to stand. She moved behind the blonde, stroking her arms as she walked her to the bedroom.

“I’ve been with plenty of women over the years,” she said. “I’ve learnt a lot about pleasure and sensuality,” she paused to kiss the back of Erica’s neck. “And one thing I know is that the strength of an orgasm is related to the amount of time someone has been in a state of arousal. The longer you wait for it, the better it will be.” She laid Erica down on the bed then walked over to her bag and opened it. She produced a pair of handcuffs. “All you need is to exercise some restraint.”

Franky walked back to the bed and climbed onto it so she was straddling Erica. She guided one of Erica’s wrists into a handcuff, the metallic latch closing around it. She then hooked the chain around the bed head and secured the other wrist in a cuff. There was almost a meter of slack on them so it wasn’t uncomfortable for Erica but it still put her hands out of action. “I think I’m going to let you keep this sexy little dress on,” Franky rasped in Erica’s ear then ran her nails up the sides of her thighs to catch the hem of the dress and pull it upwards, bunching it up at her waistline, exposing everything below it.

“I’ve learnt how to prolong arousal,” Franky continued, “how to find someone’s erogenous areas.” She trailed a nails down the side of Erica’s neck causing her to shiver. “Anywhere from the neck,” she kissed Erica’s throat, “to the most sensitive areas of the body.” 

Franky moved her hand down and ran the tip of her finger gently through Erica’s folds, picking up moisture, and moving up to circle her clit. “And where your body would feels my touch, it will also soon feel my mouth.” 

Franky’s finger slid down again to become coated with Erica’s wetness. Erica bit her lip as it traced her clit. Franky pulled her finger up to Erica’s mouth, running it like lipstick along her lips before she brought their mouths together, the taste of Erica intermingled with their kiss. For the first time that night Erica’s hunger for Franky was met with encouragement from Franky’s mouth, allowing their tongues to meet, responding to Erica’s desperation.

When Franky broke the kiss there was genuine desire in her eyes, panting coming from her mouth. She pulled the straps of Erica’s dress down over her shoulders, making the cups fall to expose her breasts. Franky’s hands cupped them; her fingers dancing around Erica’s nipples. She leant into Erica’s ear, continuing to tickle her breasts while never touching her aching nipples.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Franky said. “I’ve been resisting the urge to fuck you since we first got into the car.” Her fingers finally found Erica’s nipples, still the lightest of touches on them. From the back of Erica’s throat came a soft cry through her erratic breathing. “You’ve been thinking about it too, haven’t you?” 

“Y-yes.”

“What were you thinking?” Franky’s face went down to Erica’s nipple and she closed her lips around it.

“Oh God… I don’t know… I just want you so bad,” Erica could no longer form coherent sentences. Franky’s mouth released her nipple.

“You can have me,” Franky said. “But not tonight. Tonight is about your body and I know what it wants.” Franky climbed off the bed to remove her shirt and her jeans. Erica watched intently, panting in anticipation of what was to come. As Franky removed her simple black bra and knickers, Erica marvelled at the firmness of her lover’s body and the exquisite fullness of her breasts. Once she was fully undressed Franky returned to the bed and guided Erica to roll over so she was on her hands and knees, her wrists still handcuffed to the bedhead. 

“Are you comfortable?” Franky stroked a butt cheek. Erica nodded breathlessly. Soon she felt Franky’s nails on her, starting at her ankles, stroking upwards over her calves to tease the backs of her knees. Franky planted a soft kiss on one before her tongue traced the rest of the way up Erica’s thigh. When her face became tantalisingly close to Erica’s centre she used her hand to trace up the other thigh. 

She ran her tongue along one of Erica’s butt cheeks, licking and then softly and playfully biting on it. She placed her hands on the insides of Erica’s thighs and pushed on them, forcing Erica to spread her legs wider apart. Franky had the access she needed to run her tongue through Erica’s folds. When she reached Erica’s clit, the blonde squealed in ecstasy.

Franky moved her tongue in slow strokes along Erica’s sex, her tongue always hitting Erica’s clit but also pushing against her wet entrance, applying pressure almost to the point of penetration. The anticipation had put Erica on the brink of orgasm and Franky could tell it was building with every movement of her tongue. She stopped suddenly.

“Please don’t stop…just please don’t stop I’m so close…” Erica craned her head to look around but Franky grabbed hold of her hips and roughly flipped her onto her back. Franky lay on top of Erica and kissed her deeply. Erica whimpered as she explored Franky’s mouth desperately with her lips and tongue.

“Tell me you wanna be fucked,” Franky had released Erica’s mouth and her hand had gone down to her sex. Her fingers came back up to Erica’s mouth and the blonde sucked on them greedily. “Tell me,” Franky repeated. Her green eyes had a wicked glint as she waited for Erica to say what she wanted to hear.

“I want… I want to be fucked… I want you to fuck me.” The urge to have Franky inside her had hit Erica hard and she would say anything to be satisfied.

Franky leapt off the bed and returned to her bag, producing what Erica knew she would, a rubber dildo and a harness. Erica stared longingly at the strap-on as Franky stepped into it and fastened it to her waist. She looked incredibly hot, increasing Erica’s desire and anticipation. 

“Please fuck me…” it was barely above a whisper but Franky responded urgently to Erica’s words.  
She rushed back to the bed and crawled on top of her lover. Erica spread her legs to invite Franky in and then wrapped them around her waist. Franky leant down to kiss Erica again and to deliver one last message. “This is going to feel so fucking good.” Erica believed her.

Franky shifted into position and pushed the tip of the dildo against Erica’s centre. Erica was so wet that Franky was met with little resistance, the head being taken easily. Erica gasped as she felt it move deeper and begin to fill her up. Franky moved slowly at first but Erica urged her on with her legs, pulling her closer even though it was getting tighter.

Franky withdrew and then pumped inwards again, pushing deeper still. Erica moaned with every thrust of the dildo, loving the feel of every inch. Franky pumped again and this time she got it to the hilt. Erica was panting feverishly, wanting to feel its length over and over again. Franky looked down at Erica’s face, contorted in pleasure, and then moved a thumb to her clit.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck that feels good,’ Erica’s voice was piercing, begging for more. Franky toyed with her clit as she began to move the dildo in and out, almost removing it completely and then pushing all the way in again. Erica was moaning through heavy breaths. She needed more, for Franky to fuck her faster but Franky kept an even pace, wanting Erica’s orgasm to develop slowly.

Erica managed to use the slack of the handcuff chain to prop herself on her elbows so she could see the strap-on move in and out of her. She moaned with each inch she took, incredibly turned on by seeing the length of the dildo disappearing into her folds. Franky grabbed Erica’s face and pushed a thumb into her mouth, allowing her to suck on it while she glared at her beautiful face.

“Is this what you wanted?” Franky rasped, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

“God…yes…I want you so bad…oh fuck you’re going to make me come so hard.” Franky delighted at hearing Erica speak like that. Totally free of inhibitions. She thrust deep again and held it, a quivering sigh escaping Erica’s mouth. She leant over to kiss Erica’s breast; her hand squeezing the curve of it and bringing the nipple to her mouth. It pushed Erica to the edge.

“Uhhhhhhhh….fuck….yes…” Erica cried out. Franky moved her hips, working the strap-on in and out as she licked and sucked on Erica’s breasts. And then it happened, Franky couldn’t prolong it any further. Erica lay back on the bed, sucked in all her breath and held it. Her eyes closed and her back arched; pressing her breasts further into Franky’s soft mouth. She dug her heels into Franky’s back and got every centimetre possible of the strap-on into herself. A shockwave hit her entire body and it erupted out of her mouth in a wail.

“Uhhhhhh I’m coming, uhhhhhhhh” Franky pumped deeply one last time to hold the dildo inside Erica. She felt Erica pulsate around it and her body buck on it. It felt like it lasted forever, all the pent up lust making the orgasm plateau as Erica continued to convulse from the power of it.

“Oh my god, that feels so good,” Erica moaned. Wave after wave hit her before it finally subsided. Franky released her breasts, kneeling up to slide the strap-on out of Erica. She stared at the blonde, slightly panting, her lips glistening. 

“You have no idea how beautiful you look when I make you come,” Franky said. Erica looked up at her. She wanted to ask her to uncuff her so she could explore her body like she had done hers. Erica would have done anything Franky had wanted. But in that moment she was utterly spent and could only hold Franky’s stare. Franky was totally content. She could see in Erica’s eyes all that she was feeling. They were as one.


	12. Chapter 12

Franky closed her eyes and breathed in. She felt the warm jets of water shoot against her back as she laid her head on the wooden edge of the outdoor spa bath, her arms up either side of her. She relished the sublime feeling of the aerated, bubbling water tickling her naked body. Clouds of steam cascaded off the water’s surface. The spa was piping hot and provided a welcome sanctuary from the near-freezing air temperature of the winter morning.

Her thoughts wandered to the night before. She and Erica had enjoyed a marathon fuck fest. Franky had taken her time. She relished the fact that they had the whole night to themselves without the restriction of having to get up for work the next morning. She fucked Erica with her fingers, her tongue, with the strap-on. They’d experimented with different positions, with different toys. And when they were finished there were overwhelmed with the most delightful enervation. 

Franky was aroused just thinking about what she had done to Erica. That arousal was intensified by the fact that for the entire night she had not allowed Erica to reciprocate any of those actions on her. In the light of the morning however, she found she was now desperate for release.

As if on cue, Franky heard a sliding door opening. She opened her eyes and looked around to see Erica emerge from the cottage. The blonde gasped as the cold morning air hit her face. She buried her hands into the velour dressing gown that she was wearing and walked towards where Franky was sitting in the spa bath.

“Morning babe,” Franky said with a smile, not moving from her reclined position in the spa.

“When did you sneak out here?” Erica asked. She looked fresh-faced and well rested. Her cheeks were pink from the wind chill.

:”I dunno, about half an hour ago I guess. I thought you deserved a sleep in.” Franky winked at Erica.

“How long until checkout?” Erica asked.

“Don’t have to be out of here until 2pm,” Franky took a long, deep breath and slid deeper into the spa. “We’ve got plenty of time.” 

“How’s the water?” Erica asked.

Franky leaned her head back. “Fucking perfect,” she said. She brought her head back up to look at Erica. “Why don’t you come in and test it for yourself?”

Erica grinned. “I don’t have a bathing suit,” she murmured.

Franky looked down at her own body. Even though the bubble from the spa provided some coverage, it was obvious that she was naked. “Lucky there’s a no bathing suit policy in this spa,” she chuckled. “Do you…” she fell silent mid-sentence as Erica smiled mischievously and untied her dressing gown. Franky took a sharp intake of breath when Erica let the gown fall to the ground, revealing her gloriously naked body. 

Erica lowered herself into the spa bath, watching Franky’s eyes burn into her body as she did so. Before Franky knew it, Erica’s soft lips were on hers, planting the most delicate, seductive of kisses, before she whispered, “Are you a morning person, Franky Doyle?” 

“Fuck yeah,” Franky breathed, before Erica’s tongue snaked inside her mouth, softly and gentle at first, but getting more forceful as she entwined her fingers through Franky’s hair. 

In a situation like this Franky would usually try to battle Erica for the ascendancy, but on this morning she was far too horny to put up any resistance. She allowed herself to surrender control to Erica. All she could think about was how badly she wanted her and how she hoped the blonde was about to satisfy her beyond her wildest dreams.

Beneath the warm jets of water, Erica’s tight, toned body was inches away from Franky’s. She was strategically sitting far enough away that their skin wasn’t in contact. Franky felt herself edging closer, ever so slightly, just a little more force in her lips, her fingers reaching to Erica’s gorgeous blonde hair to pul her closer. She felt Erica smile, her breath tickling her chin as she pulled away slightly, giggling.

“You’re eager, aren’t you baby?” she cooed.

Franky couldn’t summon the words to reply. Instead, she pulled Erica closer, kissing her harder, more passionately, her fingers wrapped tightly around her head, forcing her closer still. Erica responded by slowly snaking her hands around Franky’s body, her fingers lightly grazing against the bottom of her breasts before settling on her lower back.

Just the contact of skin felt electric to Franky. Erica broke the kiss once more and looked at her. Franky noticed the water dripping down from Erica’s hair over her dewy, golden skin. Her plump lips were pink and pert from the kissing. Her breathing was heavy, regulated, but nearing breathlessness. But her eyes, her eyes were something else. Glistening, a gorgeous ocean blue. Full of passion, hungry.

“I want to fuck you,” Erica whispered.

She slowly guided Franky back up against the side of the spa bath. They were facing each other, naked bodies inches away. Erica leaned in and kissed Franky again, this time with a lot more force. Franky reciprocated the kiss, feeling Erica’s body closer to her, the heat and the tension building up. She pressed her lips harder to Erica’s, moaning softly whenever Erica nibbled at her lip. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, giving in to the lust. 

Erica planted a kiss on Franky’s cheek then on her ear, nibbling at the lobe softly as she nuzzled into her neck. She began to kiss there, biting, but careful not to leave any marks. Her lips moved lower, gradually, until she got to Franky’s sizeable breasts. Erica breathed in, taking in the shape, round, firm and supple, but soft and juicy. Franky’s nipples were fully alert and looked so delicious.

Erica hesitated for a moment, but looked up to find Franky gazing back down at her, eyes full of lust, begging. She flicked the tip of her tongue over one pink nipple, causing spasms of pleasure to course through Franky’s body. Wrapping her sumptuous lips around the hard little nub, Erica sucked softly, causing Franky to lay her head back once more, her eyes shut, lips parted. Turning to the other nipple Erica took hold of Franky’s tits, squeezing them as she playfully bit into the nipple and its surrounding flesh.

Franky was in heaven. Having her breasts in Erica’s mouth felt amazing. Her clit was starting throb, so in need of attention that she had to fight the urge to start playing with it herself.

As if reading her mind, Erica pulled away, sitting up once again to kiss Franky passionately while her fingers softly traced over her skin. From her breasts, down towards her belly button, ever so slowly running down along the skin beneath the water, Erica reached down to Franky’s knees and separated them so she could move closer towards her goal. She scratched her nails up along Franky’s soft thighs and the mixture of slight pain and tickling anticipation was too much for Franky. She took hold of Erica’s hand and pulled it closer to her desired destination.

Erica pulled away from the kiss, smiling knowingly as she stared into Franky’s eyes. Her fingers ran closer to the sexy brunette’s center. She felt the soft, smooth skin around Franky’s sex, her fingers slowly tracing around it to tease her lover to breaking point.

“Fuck,” Franky exclaimed loudly, her eyes shut, breathing heavily.

Erica took one finger and ran it ever so slowly along Franky’s sex, feeling the extreme wetness despite the water, right up to find her hard clit, aching to be stimulated. Erica brushed her thumb over it and Franky’s body convulsed, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips Erica softly rubbed her most sensitive spot.

Erica pulled away, not wanting to overexcite Franky, instead slipping a finger into her tight opening, kissing her hard. Franky was soft, warm and tight around Erica’s finger and the blonde gasped with pleasure at finally being inside her again. She slowly inserted a second finger, felt it force its way inside, before beginning to curl her fingers up inside Franky with force. Right up against her g-spot, pumping with a skilful wrist motion. When she had achieved a rhythm that had Franky moaning against her mouth, her thumb returned to rub over Franky’s swollen clit.

Franky felt her whole body tingle and she clenched around Erica’s fingers as they worked on her. She felt the ache inside her get repeatedly sated by Erica’s movements. She wanted to scream, it felt so fucking good, but Erica’s lips remained pushed firmly against hers as her fingers pumped in and out.

Franky felt her body tighten, the warmth in her center building as Erica rubbed at her clit faster and harder. She broke from the kiss, throwing her head back and biting her lip hard as her hips twisted, pushing up to meet Erica’s fingers as waves of electricity flowed through her. Even in the water, Erica could feel Franky’s powerful orgasm flood her body. Franky gripped around Erica’s fingers, soaking them. Erica continued to thrust her fingers into Franky as she watched her orgasm subside, then she slowed them as Franky’s body relaxed and came down from the strong climax. Franky opened her eyes and immediately sat forward to tenderly kiss Erica while her fingers were still inside her.

All Franky could think about was pleasuring Erica just like she had pleasured her. She ached to see her pussy, to taste it, to feel it enveloping her fingers as she fucked her to orgasm. But as if to say, not now, Erica pulled away and got out of the spa bath. Franky watched her grab a towel and wrap it around her gorgeous body. Sensing Franky’s frustration, Erica spoke.

“I’ll go in and cook us breakfast,” she said softly. “Afterwards we can try out the indoor spa.” Her eyes twinkled as she bent down to kiss Franky softly on the lips before walking back towards the cottage.

Franky could only sit there and contemplate what had just happened. She felt deliciously refreshed and satisfied, but she also yearned for more of Erica. Begrudgingly, she climbed out of the spa and grabbed a towel for herself. As she made her way back to the cottage she knew that she and Erica still had a few hours left to enjoy themselves before they had to return to the real world. Smiling, she thought about all the things she was going to do to Erica when they made it to the indoor spa.

******

On Thursday morning, the morning after Franky and Erica returned from their mini-getaway, Erica returned to work. Franky had the rest of the week off but still had some jobs to do. The most urgent was also the one she was dreading the most. She had to collect some things from Bridget’s house. All her clothes were there, her electronics, as well as some things that she needed for work. Until she had got them, she would feel as if she was half there still. With a sick feeling in her stomach, she rang Bridget’s work number, but she wasn’t there; they said she was ill. She then rang Bridget’s mobile and she answered on the first ring.

“Bridget, it’s Franky,” she said foolishly.

“I know,” Bridget replied drily.

“Are you crook?”

“No.”

There was a silence.

“Listen, I’m sorry but I need to come round and collect a few things.”

“I’ll be at work during the day tomorrow. Do it then.”

“I haven’t got my keys anymore.”

Franky could hear Bridget breathing on the other end. “You really burnt your bridges, didn’t you, Franky?”

They arranged that Franky should call in at six thirty that evening. There was another pause. Then they both said goodbye, politely, and Franky rang off.

******

Franky was early, so she walked around for a bit. She didn’t want to take Bridget by surprise, before she was prepared for her, and she certainly didn’t want to meet her on the street. She tried to think what she would say to her. The act of breaking off from her had immediately turned her into a stranger, someone more precious and vulnerable than the strong, impervious Bridget she had lived with. At a few minutes past six thirty, Franky went to the door and pressed the buzzer. She heard feet running down the stairs, saw a shape approaching through the frosted glass.

“Hello, Franky.”

It was Pauline.

“Pauline.” Franky didn’t know what to say to her. Her good friend; the one she would have turned to in any other circumstance. Pauline stood in the doorway. Her dark hair was tied up in a stern knot. She looked tired; there were faint smudges under her eyes. Franky realised that she was seeing her as if they had been apart from each other for months, not just a couple of days.

“Can I come in?”

Pauline stood aside and Franky walked past her, up the stairs. Everything looked the same in the house, of course it did. A photograph of Bridget and Franky, arms around each other and grinning widely, still hung on the wall. Franky’s black moccasin slippers lay on the living-room floor, near the sofa where they’d sat on Sunday. The tulips Bridget had bough at the end of the previous week still stood in a vase, though a little bit droopy. Franky felt bewildered and sat down heavily on the sofa. Pauline stayed standing, looking down at her. She hadn’t said a work.

“Pauline,” Franky croaked. “I know what I’ve done is awful, but I had to.”

“Do you want me to forgive you, then?” she asked. Her voice was withering.

“No.” That was a lie, of course Franky did. “No, but you are one of my closest friends. I thought, well, I’m not cold or heartless. There’s nothing I can say in my defence, except that I just fell in love. Surely you can understand that.”

Franky saw Pauline wince. Of course she could understand that. Eighteen months ago she’d been left, too, because the man she was with had just fallen in love. She sat down at the other end of sofa, as far away from Franky as possible. 

“The thing is this, Franky,” she began, and Franky was struck by how they were even talking to each other differently now, more formally and pedantically. “If I allowed myself to, of course I could understand. After all, you weren’t married, you didn’t have children. But I don’t want to understand, you see. Not at the moment. She’s my big sister and she’s been badly hurt.” Her voice wavered and, for a few seconds, she sounded like the woman Franky knew. “Maybe some day we can be friends again, but I’d feel like I was betraying Bridget or something if I listened to your side of the story and tried to imagine how you must be feeling.” She stood up. “I don’t want to be fair to you, you see. Actually, I want to hate you.”

Franky nodded and stood up, too. She did see, of course she did. “I’ll get my things, then.”

Pauline nodded and went into the kitchen. Franky could hear her get a beer from the fridge.

In the bedroom, everything was as it always had been. Franky took her suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe and placed it open on the floor. By her side of the neatly-made bed was the book she had been in the middle of reading and her phone charger. She took them both and put them in the case. She opened the cupboard doors and started to slip clothes off hangers. Her hands were shaking and she couldn’t fold them properly. 

She went to the ensuite and shovelled all her creams, lotions and makeup into the case but hesitated over her jewellery. Bridget had given her some of it as gifts: a couple of pairs of earrings, a necklace, a wide copper bracelet. Franky didn’t know if it would be more hurtful to take them or not. She pictured Bridget, later that night, coming into the ensuite and finding out what she had removed, and what she had left behind, and trying to read her feelings from such insubstantial clues. She decided to take everything and chuck it in the case.

There was a pile of washing in the corner, and she fished out a couple of things from it. She remembered her satchel, under the chair by the window, and her diary. She remembered her passport, birth certificate, insurance policies and parole information, which were in a folder along with all of Bridget’s personal documents. She didn’t take any of her other books, although there were several. And she wasn’t going to argue over the car, for which she insisted putting down the deposit on twelve months previously, while Bridget took care of the monthly payments.

Pauline was sitting on the sofa in the living room, drinking her beer. She watched as Franky picked up three letters from the table that were addressed to her and slipped them into her satchel. 

“Is that all? You’re travelling light, aren't you?”

Franky shrugged hopelessly. “I know I’ll have to sort it properly soon. Not yet.”

“So it’s not just a fling?”

Franky looked at Pauline. Her eyes were just like Bridget’s. “No, it’s not.”

“So Bridget shouldn’t hold out any hope that you’ll come back to her?”

“No.”

Franky needed to get out of there so she could cry. She went to the door, picking up a jacket of hers that hung from a hook as she did so. It was cold and dark outside.

“Pauline, can you tell Bridget that I’ll do this …” she made a wide, vague gesture round the room, at all their shared things “… however she wants.”

Pauline looked at her but didn’t reply.

“Seeya later, then,” Franky said.

They stared at each other. Franky saw that Pauline, too, wanted her to go so she could cry.

“Yes,” she said.


	13. Chapter 13

“I must look like shit.”

“No,” Erica said. She wrapped her arms around Franky’s neck and surveyed her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I know that must have been awful. Breakups can be so painful.”

“The best things are born out of pain. Of course it’s painful.”

Erica had never thought of pain as necessary or ennobling. But Franky’s statement was not without merit. She thought of some of the bigger decisions she had made in her life. Leaving her plum job at her father’s firm. Leaving her long-term fiance. Both those decisions had been very painful, but ultimately they had led her to Franky’s arms. Maybe the best things are born out of pain.

Franky broke free of Erica’s embrace and moved hastily to the refrigerator. She grabbed two beers and placed them on the kitchen counter, flicking the tops off with a bottle opener so they scattered across the laminate. Then she walked over to the living area and took a seat on the couch. On the way she handed a beer to Erica who remained standing near the doorway.

Erica hesitated for a moment, looking over at Franky who took a sizeable gulp of her beer. She took a deep breath before walking over and quietly taking a seat next to Franky on the couch. She curled her legs up on to the cushion and turned to face her. She took a small sip of her own beer.

“Franky,” Erica asked tentatively, “I know you’ve given up everything for me. And I know how scary that must be.”

Franky turned her head and contemplated Erica for a moment. “it’s not scary,” she said matter of factly. “I’m sad that I hurt Bridget and Pauline, but giving something up to chase what I want doesn’t scare me.” Franky reached over and tucked one of Erica’s long blonde curls behind her ear. Erica smiled at her.

“There is something that scares me, but,” Franky continued.

“What is it?” Erica asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

“Losing control.”

“What do you mean?”

Franky took another gulp of beer. Her emotional intelligence had come a long way since Erica first met her at Wentworth, but some Dutch courage still helped when it came to confessing her fears. “I want you so much, Erica. Always have. But I feel as though I’m half-blinded by passion when I’m with you. Everything else seems blurred and unimportant except me and you. All my life I’ve wanted to be in control and sure of where I’m going. None of my relationships have ever diverted me from that. Now I’m with you, I feel as though I might have lost my rudder or something. I would give up anything for the feel of my hands on your body. Your hands on mine.” She took another sip. “That’s not control.”

Franky looked at Erica nervously. The blonde’s eyes had not moved from hers while she had been speaking, her expression had not changed. Franky wasn’t sure what she expected Erica would say, but she certainly didn’t expect her to throw her head back and laugh.

“What?” Franky pushed at Erica’s leg to get her to speak. 

Erica’s laughter eased. She reached over and took Franky’s beer from her hand and placed it on the coffee table along with her own. She climbed on top of Franky, straddling her lap. Franky couldn’t help but smile at the happiness in Erica’s face but she still wanted to know what had gotten into her. “What is it?” she said, shaking her by the hips.

Erica pushed some dark brown hair out of Franky’s face and kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t you realise I feel the exact same way?” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve always been incredibly attracted to who you are - both inside and out. But for the longest time I didn’t trust myself around you. I was worried that my attraction and my desires would get the better of me. That I would lose control of myself.”

“Okaaaay…” Franky said the word slowly, encouraging Erica to continue.

“The thing is, losing control doesn’t scare me anymore because I trust you. I don’t feel like I would be losing control, I’d be willingly giving control to _you_ in that moment. And I trust that you would always take care of me.”

Franky nodded. It was true she would never take advantage of Erica under any circumstance.

“Do you trust me?” Erica continued.

Franky looked into Erica’s eyes. She took a moment to think. A welcome calm passed over her. “Yeah, I do,” she replied.

“Then we both have nothing to be scared of.”

Erica leaned forward and kissed Franky. It was slow and passionate, and had a lack of urgency that both women revelled in. It was the most intimate kiss they had ever shared.

******

The following day, a Saturday, Erica had to go into the office to do some work with a junior colleague who had requested her help. Along with doing some work on some of her own cases, she expected she would be gone all day. She and Franky arranged to meet up later that evening in the city at a book shop in Carlton. A college friend of Erica’s had just had her first novel published and they were meeting there to celebrate seeing it on sale. It would be Franky’s first time meeting any of Erica’s friends.

Franky began the day with a morning run, and as she pounded the pavement she thought about her own work and friends. She would be back at work on Monday and that, of course, was where a lot of her friends also spent their business hours. She presumed they would all be aware by now of she and Bridget’s breakup. Many of them considered Bridget their friend, also. It would be awkward seeing them all for the first time at the office when she should be concentrating on work. She would feel a lot more comfortable if she’d spoken to at least one of them beforehand. When she got back to the apartment, she dared herself and rang Sylvie.

“Franky, is that you?” Sylvie had answered the phone in quick time.

“Yes,” Franky said limply.

“I need to see you,” Sylvie quickly put paid to any concern Franky may have had that she wouldn’t have a bar of her.

“Yeah, I was calling hoping to catch up.”

“I’m stuck at my parents’ house for lunch, but are you doing anything tonight?”

Franky thought. Suddenly things seemed complicated. “I’m meeting ….er, somebody in town.”

“Where? When?”

‘It’s at a book shop in Carlton. At half past six.”

“We could meet before.”

Sylvie was insistent. They could meet at quarter to six at a bar she knew off Lygon St. When Franky arrived at twenty to six, breathless and nervous, Sylvie was already there at an outside table, nursing a glass of wine and a cigarette. When Franky approached she stood up and hugged her. “I’m glad you called me,” Sylvie said.

They sat down together. Franky ordered a wine. “I’m glad you’re glad,” she said. “I feel I’ve let people down.”

Sylvie looked at her. “Why?”

That was unexpected, and Franky didn’t feel prepared for it. She had come in order to be given a hard time, to be made feel guilty.

“There’s Bridget.”

Sylvie lit another cigarette and gave a half-smile. “Yes, there is Bridget.”

“Have you seen her?”

“Yes.”

“How is she?” 

“She’s fine. You know Bridget, she’s strong. You can tell she’s heartbroken, though. Is that what you want to hear? But she will recover. Not many people die of heartbreak.”

Franky took a sip of her wine. “I hope so. I’m sorry, Sylvie, I feel as if I’ve just come back from overseas or something and I’m out of touch with what’s going on.”

There was a silence that obviously embarrassed both of them.

“How’s Clive?” Franky blurted desperately.

“He’s in love again,” said Sylvie. “Some chick named Gail. I haven’t met her yet but I hear she’s good fun.”

Another silence. Sylvie fixed Franky with a pensive expression. “What’s she like?” she asked.

Franky felt herself going red and oddly tongue-tied. She realised with an ache of something she didn’t quite understand that _it_ \- she and Erica - had been a hidden activity and none of it had ever been put into words for the benefit of others. They’d never arrived at a party together. There was nobody who saw them as a couple. Now there was Sylvie, curious for herself, but also, Franky suspected, a delegation despatched from the crew at work to forage for information she could bring back for them to pick at. Franky had an impulse to keep it secret for a while longer. She wanted to retreat back to Erica’s apartment once more, just the two of them. She didn’t want to be possessed and gossiped and speculated about by other people. Even the thought of Erica and her body sent ripples through her. She suddenly dreaded the idea of routine, of being Erica and Franky who lived somewhere and owned possessions in common and went to things together. And yet she also desperately wanted it.

“God,” Franky said. “I don’t know what to say. Well I suppose you know her name is Erica and … well … being with her has been nothing like I have ever experienced before.”

“I know,” said Sylvie. “It’s wonderful at the beginning, isn’t it?”

Franky shook her head. “It’s not like that. Look, all my life I’ve always had great luck with women. Every girlfriend I’ve had has been nice, fun to be with, good looking, good in bed. I’ve never wanted for anything in that regard. But since I’ve been with Erica all those things have gone to a whole never level. I don’t know how to explain it. We just have a connection…it’s indescribable.”

Sylvie’s well-shaped eyebrows shot up. It was strange to hear Franky speak so intensely about a relationship. “How long have you been seeing her?” Sylvie asked.

“A few weeks.”

“And you’ve been in bed the whole time.” Franky didn’t reply. “You’re already moving in with her?”

“It looks like it.”

Sylvie puffed at her cigarette. “So it’s the real thing.”

“It’s something. I’ve been knocked sideways by it.”

Sylvie leaned forward with a roguish expression. “You should be careful. It’s always like this at the beginning. You’re all over each other, obsessed with each other. You both want to fuck all the time, you’re telling her to sit on your face, that sort of thing -“

“For fuck’s sake, Sylvie.”

“Well, you do,” she said pertly, relieved to be back on familiar territory, reckless Sylvie talking dirty. “Or at least metaphorically. You should just be careful, that’s all. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it. Enjoy. Do it all, go wild, as long as neither of you is actually put at a physical risk.”

“What are you talking about?”

She looked prim all of a sudden. _"You know."_

They ordered more wine and Sylvie continued to grill Franky, until she looked at her phone and saw it was just a few minutes until half past. She reached for her wallet. “I’ve gotta go,” she said quickly. After she’d paid, Sylvie followed her out on to the sidewalk. “So which way are you going?’ I’ll come along with you, Franky, if that’s all right.” 

“Why?”

“There’s a book I need to buy,” she said brazenly. “You’re going to a book shop, right?”

“It’s fine,” Franky said. “You can meet her. Doesn’t worry me.”

“I just want a book,” Sylvie said.

It was only a couple of minutes’ walk away, an independent bookstore that was renowned for stocking Australian authors.

“Is she here? Sylvie asked, as they walked inside.

“I can’t see her,” Franky said. “You’d better go ahead and find your book.”

Sylvie mumbled something doubtful and they both wandered around. Franky felt a touch from behind and then arms around her, someone nuzzling her neck. She turned round. Erica. She put her arms around Franky in the way that felt as if they were wrapped around her twice. “Franky,” she said. Franky was surprised at how openly affectionate Erica was being in public. Pleasantly surprised.

Erica let her go and Franky saw there were two women with her looking amused. The were both attractive and sophisticated-looking, like Erica. One had very light brown, almost blonde hair, smooth skin, prominent cheekbones. The other was darker, with very long wavy brown hair. Erica gestured to the blonde woman. “This is Deanne,” she said. “And this is Kate.”

“Good to meet you, Franky,” Deanne said. She sounded foreign, Scandinavian maybe. Erica hadn’t introduced her but they knew her name. Erica must have told them about her. They looked at her appraisingly, Erica’s lesbian lover. Franky stared right back, willing herself to hold their gaze. She felt a presences at her shoulder. Sylvie. “Erica, this a friend of mine, Sylvie.”

Erica smiled. “Good to meet you, Sylvie.”

“Yes,” Sylvie said. “I mean, hello.” She stared at Erica, mesmerised, but Erica turned her attention back to Franky. “Deanne and Kate might seem a bit out of it. They’ve just returned from a trip to London.” Erica took hold of Franky’s hand, entwining their fingers. “We’re going to the bar round the corner. Want to come?” This last was addressed to Sylvie and she looked back to her. 

“No,” Sylvie said, almost as if she had been offered a very tempting, but very dangerous, drug. “No, no. I’ve, er, got to …”

“She’s got to buy a book,” Franky said.

“Yes,” she said, falteringly. “And other things. I’ve got to.”

“Some other time,” Erica said, and she and Franky left with Deanne and Kate. Franky turned and gave Sylvie a wink, as if she was on a train that was pulling out of a station and leaving her behind. Stacey looked aghast, or awestruck, or something. As they walked Franky removed her hand from Erica’s and placed it possessively around her hip.

When they arrived at the bar the foursome sought out a table and sat down. Kate went to the counter and bought a bottle of wine and returned clutching it and four glasses. 

“So you guys are old friends?” Franky asked.

“Yes, we shared a dorm at college,” Deanne said.

“Kate and Deanne were lucky enough to take interesting classes like Literature and Creative Writing while I was stuck in the Law building,” Erica added.

“What’s your book about, Deanne?” Franky asked.

Deanne chuckled. “It’s a police procedural. Lots of sex and violence. Short stories have always been my passion but eventually I sold out.”

“It’s a great book though,” Erica interjected. “You’d love it, Franky.”

“Are you a big reader, Franky?” Kate asked.

“For sure.”

“What’s your favourite book?”

“Umm…” Franky thought for a moment. “I’d have to go with _Madame Bovary_.” She turned and winked at Erica who smiled and blushed slightly. They both remembered when Franky first read that book when she was at Wentworth. The story of a woman who has adulterous affairs to escape the banalities and emptiness of provincial life - the parallels with Erica’s situation at the time were undeniable.

Franky took a sip of wine, leaned back and watched the conversation about favourite books continue. She felt a glowing pleasure in seeing Erica and Deanne and Kate discussing a topic that was of great interest to them. She liked that all the books were ones she had read herself and also enjoyed. She sneaked a glance at Erica’s face. The enthusiasm in her expression reminded Franky of something and then she remembered. It was the expression she had worn when Franky had first spoken with her. When they discussed the possibility of Franky completing her HSC at Wentworth.

Later, after they had gotten into bed, neither of them bothering with the pretence of pyjamas, Erica asked Franky about Sylvie. “What did she say?” she asked.

“She wanted to know about you,” Franky said. Erica nodded. Franky gave her a kiss, biting her full lower lip slightly, then harder. “And she said I should enjoy it. So long as no one got hurt.” Franky’s hand that had been caressing Erica’s back suddenly held her down on the bed. Her lips were against Erica’s ear. “But I think you might want me to hurt you.” She dragged her teeth along Erica’s earlobe. “Just a little bit.”

Franky pushed herself off Erica and knelt up on the bed. She instructed Erica to get on her hands and knees and Erica nervously obeyed. Silence and anticipation filled the room. Then suddenly a sharp sting radiated from Erica’s behind as a loud crack echoed off the walls of the bedroom. Erica yelped. She screamed again as a second swat thrashed against her flesh. This time she felt Franky’s hand affectionately caress her after the impact. Another one came, then another, and another. Each time the wicked sting was followed by soft massaging touches on Erica’s now flaming skin. By the tenth swat Erica’s cries had turned into erotic moans of pleasure. The spanking aroused her in ways she had never experienced. Each slap was torturous pleasure. The hardest of Franky’s spanks came crashing against Erica’s now sensitive bottom with enough force to make her fall face down on to the bed.

Franky was unperturbed. “Lay on your back and get comfortable,” she said. “And close your eyes.”

Erica gingerly turned over and settled in the middle of the bed. She lay motionless with her arms at her sides, her punished behind burning beneath her. She closed her eyes. She heard Franky’s footsteps, then a long period of silence.

“Spread your arms and legs out.”

Erica stretched her arm toward the sound of Franky’s voice. She felt something cold wrap tightly around her wrist. “What is that?” she asked.

“Shh! Just trust me. Keep your eyes closed.”

Again Erica heard Franky’s movements, then felt another foreign object wrap around her. This time it was around her ankle. She heard footsteps on the opposite side of the bed. The same objects were now wrapped tightly around Erica’s other ankle and wrist.

“You can open them now,” Franky said.

Erica opened her eyes. She turned her head to the side and caught a glimpse of a black cuff attached to her wrist with pink rope tied to it that disappeared under the bed. Erica pulled on her wrist but it barely moved. Turning her head to the other side, her other wrist was restrained in the same manner. Looking at the foot of the bed, she saw her ankles were also bound. Franky was standing at the foot of the bed between her legs. 

“What are you doing?” Erica whispered.

Franky only smiled in response. She climbed onto the bed, crawling seductively on top of Erica’s naked body. She stopped with her face just inches from Erica’s. Her dark hair draped down around Erica’s head, providing a barrier from the outside world as they stared into each other’s eyes. Erica smiled, her eyes glistening. “Kiss me, Franky.”

Erica got her wish. They closed their eyes and their soft full lips pressed together. The tip of Franky's tongue entered Erica's inviting mouth and she accepted it by sucking it inside. Erica pulled against her restraints, cursing the fact she finally had her lips pressed against Franky but couldn't fully embrace her. Erica whimpered when Franky withdrew from her. Franky ran her fingers through Erica's hair then stroked her cheeks with the back of her hand before going in for another kiss. A deep, hungry tongue-filled kiss.

Franky pressed her body against Erica's and nuzzled into her neck, taking in the sweet scent of Erica's hair then started kissing, licking, sucking. The slow rhythmic grinding of their bodies together was driving Erica crazy. The tickling sensation of Franky's tongue running the length of her neck felt incredibly erotic.

Franky sat up then straddled Erica's waist. She smiled down at Erica as she ran her fingertips across her restrained lover's skin. Down her neck, across her collarbone, along her arms and back again. Everywhere Franky touched made Erica's skin tingle. 

Erica gasped and exhaled deeply when those fingertips ran across the tops of her breasts. Franky's delicate touch changed to full caressing palms that grazed across Erica's sensitive nipples, making Erica's body twitch involuntarily. 

"Sensitive?" Franky grinned.

Erica nodded. Her breathing intensified. She let out a soft mewl as Franky played with her breasts, kneading, squeezing, grazing just the palm of her hand against her swollen nubs. Despite the restraints, Erica was able to squirm just a little bit. Each time she did, Franky revelled in Erica's delightful torment.

Franky gave Erica a quick kiss on the lips, then made a trail of kisses from her neck slowly down to her breasts. First she kissed the left nipple several times then softly sucked it into her mouth, seductively staring into Erica’s blue eyes. Then she grasped Erica's right breast firmly, hungrily sucking her other nipple, finishing with a slight nibble.

Erica's frustration mounted. The restraints held her in place, and Franky took pleasure in Erica's denial of release. Erica bucked and moaned as Franky toyed with her breasts. She was completely at Franky's mercy.

After Franky feasted on Erica's breasts for what felt like forever, she trailed her tongue down her sternum to her flat stomach. Erica wiggled against her, hoping she wouldn't stop there. She gasped when she felt a hand cup her between her thighs. Three fingers slowly rubbed against her slick folds. Franky knew exactly where to touch, how hard, and how fast. Erica whined when Franky's hand retreated.

“You’re so wet," Franky said, and examined her glistening fingers. She seductively sucked on two of her fingers, closing her eyes as she savoured the taste. “But you’re not the only one.”

Erica watched wide-eyed as Franky crawled on all fours up her body. Once she reached Erica's face, she planted her knees on both sides of her head. Erica had an up close and personal view of Franky's sex, but she it was just out of reach of her mouth. Franky brought her own hand down and began playing with herself, her fingers rubbing in circles around her swollen clit. Erica watched, captivated, as Franky slid two fingers inside herself, moaning softly as she did. Erica tilted her head forward as far she could but still could not reach her goal.

"Do you want to taste me?” Franky asked.

Erica nodded.

Franky traced Erica's lower lip with a slick index finger. Erica licked Franky's juices from her lips before Franky stuck both fingers into Erica's eager mouth. The taste of Franky's nectar was blissfully intoxicating.

"Do you like it?" Franky asked, pulling her fingers from Erica's mouth.

Erica was completely under her spell. "Yes," she hissed. "I want more. Please."

With a few small scoots forward Erica could feel the heat coming from Franky's sex. She stuck out her tongue, trying to lick the moist cunt that was perched above her lips, but it was still barely out of reach. "Please," Erica whined.

"Please, what?"

"Please! Let me taste you properly!”

Finally, Erica’s request was fulfilled. Franky lowered herself and Erica wasted no time running her tongue up the full length of her slit, taking her essence into her mouth. She savoured Franky's taste before exploring further with her tongue. She found Franky's clit and gave it a tender lick with the tip of her tongue.

“Yeah, right there,” Franky cooed. 

Following Franky's guidance, Erica flicked her tongue repeatedly across Franky's clit. Franky moaned between short pants of breath when Erica encased her clit with her mouth.

“Don’t stop, Erica.”

Erica basked in the pleasure she was bringing her lover. Each blissful cry of pleasure that came from Franky's lips only drove Erica to intensify the movements of her lips and tongue. A scream of pure ecstasy filled the room that sent Erica's mouth into overdrive. She sucked on Franky's throbbing clit hard, sending shock-waves of pleasure throughout Franky’s entire body. The pressure of Franky's thighs on Erica's face deprived Erica of oxygen but in that moment she didn't care. All that mattered was Franky's orgasm, and she was well rewarded as Franky cried out her release.

"Holy shit!" Franky said as she leaned backward, breathing heavily. “I think you have a gift for that.”

"You know, you're pretty gifted at it yourself," Erica not so subtly hinted.

“Aww," Franky pouted between breaths. “Are you ready to come too?” Erica quickly nodded her head in response. “It’s too bad you’re tied up and I can do what I want.”

“Come on, Franky! I can't take much more of this…”

Franky gave her a devilish grin. "You're so cute when you beg.”

Franky climbed off the bed then crawled back in between Erica's stretched legs. She leisurely ran her tongue from Erica's knee to her inner thigh. Slowly, she kissed from that spot up to Erica’s sex. She blew air from her mouth directly onto Erica’s clit.

"Fuck! You're such a fucking tease!" Erica cried in blissful agony.

Erica quivered as Franky traced her index finger around her aching clit. Franky sucked on her index finger then reapplied it to Erica's button, harassing her further. Erica bucked against her, pulling at her restraints, wishing she had the strength to pull them loose. "Please," she whimpered. Franky leaned forward, took in a deep breath, then blew a long slow breath against Erica's slick pussy. The chill sent shivers up Erica's entire body. "Please!" she wailed loudly.

Erica felt the tip of Franky's tongue graze her nether lips, teasing her with slow full licks. She heard Franky hum with delight as her tongue went between Erica's wet folds. ”Oh fuck!" Erica gasped as Franky's tongue touched her clit. Small light strokes were followed by rapid flicking of Franky's tongue. 

Franky stopped, climbing atop Erica's body. She kissed Erica lustfully, both of them tasting each other's essence on their tongues. Franky kept a hand on Erica's pussy, rubbing her as they tangled their tongues together.

Franky plunged two of her fingers deep inside Erica, making her gasp for air. With her eyes rolling into the back of her head, Erica wailed as Franky fucked her hard with her fingers. She moaned with delight, coming ever closer to catastrophic orgasm. Franky kissed her, letting her moan into her mouth. Erica tensed and Franky suddenly stopped before Erica reached the edge. 

"Fuck! Don’t stop!"

Franky sucked her coated fingers, smiling down at Erica. “Just wait. I want to make you come with my mouth.”

Franky slid down Erica's body, moving straight to her sex. Her lips engulfed Erica's clit, sucking at it. Erica bucked against her mouth, screaming Franky’s name among strings of obscenities. Erica was consumed by lust as Franky went down on her. Finally, her exquisite torture was at an end.

With Erica's orgasm imminent, Franky used her fingers to fuck Erica as she continued sucking her clit. “Oh God!” Erica wailed as her orgasm came crashing in like an unmanned freight train. She came hard but Franky didn't even slow down. She continued to lick, suck, and fuck Erica earnestly. A few seconds later Erica's orgasm returned, even harder than the first. "Fuuuuuck!" she cried and pulled against her restraints. Franky doubled her efforts. She inserted a third finger and fucked Erica as fast as she could. A steady stream of Erica's cum flowed out of her the third and final time orgasm wrecked her body. Franky slowed down, lapping at the abundant amount of juices flowing from Erica.

Erica's heart pounded. She could hardly catch her breath. Franky unfastened the ankle restraints then crawled along Erica's body to free her wrists. Erica turned her head as Franky cuddled her naked body against Erica's side. They shared several intimate kisses, coming down from their sexual high. With her arms now free, Erica wrapped them around her lover, pulling her close. "I love you, Franky Doyle,” she said. “And I’m so happy for it to finally be out in the open."

Franky grinned, her eyes starting to tear up. "I love you, too.” They held each other, cuddling, kissing. They basked in their mutual satisfaction of one another, cherishing the moment they had taken so many years to achieve.


	14. Chapter 14

Moving to Sydney was actually Louise’s idea. Franky’s boss was aware of the dramatic changes in Franky’s personal life. She felt a change in scenery would probably do her good. Louise was also aware of an opening for a junior associate in their Sydney offices and genuinely felt that Franky would be perfect for the job.

Franky had little hesitation in taking up Louise’s offer. She had lived in Melbourne all her life and when she thought about it, far too many of those years were unhappy ones. Until recently the prospect of moving to Sydney or anywhere interstate wasn’t even an option for her. Her parole conditions had stated that she was unable to leave the state of Victoria. If she was ever going to make a big move, now was the time.

Erica was more than willing to make the move with her. She loved Franky’s ambition to further her law career and revelled in the excitement she showed about moving cities. Erica had also never lived outside of Melbourne and was confident that with her credentials, experience and connections she would be able to find a job for herself. The idea of starting from scratch with Franky in a city as beautiful and vibrant as Sydney appealed to her greatly.

Of course with a big life change such as moving there were lots of people to tell. For Erica, she had to inform her friends and family. Franky was estranged from her mother and father, but she still had a family she wanted to notify. Rather than phoning or texting, she decided to write to Doreen, Liz and Boomer. They were going to be very surprised. She had only told them that she and Bridget had separated. She hadn’t even mentioned Erica to them yet. She also wrote to Bridget, despite struggling to find the right words. She didn’t want her to hear it from anyone else first. 

Louise had promised not to tell Sylvie, Clive or any of the other articled clerks until the last minute but they would find out soon enough. Franky planned on speaking to them, and even to Pauline, but she somehow always put it off.

******

In the weeks that they had been living together, Franky had learned that Erica cooked great curries. That, like Franky, she preferred reading to watching television. That she walked very fast. That she had a sewing kit and would sew buttons back onto shirts with meticulous care. That she loved single malt whiskey and good red wine and wheat beer, and hated baked beans and bony fish and mashed potatoes. That she was almost fluent in both Spanish and French. That she didn’t need much sleep. That she liked cats but was never allowed pets as a child. That her hands were always warm, no matter how cold it was outside. That she hated lids to be left off jars and drawers to be left open. That she had a manicure every second week. That she always carried tissues in her handbag.

Franky also learned that she could hold Erica down with one hand. That Erica would let her take naked photographs of her on her phone. That she liked being tied down, literally. That she gave the most beautiful smile when she woke up and Franky was lying beside her, watching her. Franky felt at last if she had been turned inside out and all her private internal landscape, everything that had belonged only to her, was known. She felt very, very happy, but if this was happiness, then she had never been happy before.

It was a Monday morning when Franky finally spoke to Clive and Sylvie and let them know that she would be moving to Sydney in three weeks’ time. Their reaction was as she expected, they wished her well but didn’t show any great excitement. What she did not expect, was for Clive to invite her out for coffee on their morning tea break on Thursday. He was polite and formal, their dynamic had certainly changed, but asked if Franky and Erica would like to come to his girlfriend Gail’s birthday party. It was the next day, Friday, nine o’clock, with food and dancing.

Franky hesitated. “Will Bridget be there?”

“Yes.”

“And Pauline?”

“Yes.”

“Do they know that you’re asking me?”

“I wouldn’t have asked you without talking to them first.”

Franky took a deep breath. “You’d better give me the address.”

Franky didn’t think Erica would want to go, but she surprised her. “Of course, if it’s important to you,” she said casually.

******

Gail’s flat was in a large, rickety house in Richmond. When Franky and Erica arrived there, all the windows were lit up. Even from the sidewalk they could hear music and laughing voices, and see the shapes of people through the open curtains. Franky grabbed Erica’s elbow. “Is this a good idea? Maybe we shouldn’t have come.”

“Let’s go in there for a little while,” Erica said soothingly. “You can see everyone you need to see, and we can go and have a late meal afterwards.”

Gail opened the door. “Franky!” she hugged Franky exuberantly, as if they were old friends, then turned inquiringly towards Erica, as if she had no idea who she was.

“Erica, this is Gail. Gail, Erica.”

Erica smiled and shook her hand. Gail looked at her. “Sylvie was right.” She giggled. She was drunk already.

“Happy birthday, Gail,” Franky said drily, forcing Gail to switch her attention away from Erica.

The room was full of people holding glasses of wine or bottles of beer. Music was playing from an iPod stereo. Franky took two glasses from a table and slugged some wine into them for Erica and herself, and looked around. Bridget was standing near the window, talking to a woman wearing a strikingly short leather skirt. She hadn’t noticed her come in, or she was pretending that she didn’t.

“Franky.”

Franky turned. “Pauline. Nice to see you.” Franky moved forward and kissed Pauline’s cheek, but she was unresponsive. Franky introduced Erica awkwardly.

“I gathered,” Pauline said.

Erica touched Pauline’s elbow and said in a clear, carrying voice, “Pauline, life is too short to lose a friend.”

Pauline looked taken aback but managed to speak. Franky drifted away from them, towards Bridget. She had to get this over with. Bridget had seen her now. She was still talking to the woman in the skirt, but her glance kept turning towards Franky. She went over. “Hello, Bridget,” she said.

“Hello, Franky.”

“Did you get my letter?”

The woman turned and left them. Bridget smiled at Franky and said, “God, that was hard going. It’s difficult being single again. Yes I got your letter. At least you didn’t say you hoped we could still be friends.”

At the other end of the room Franky saw Erica taking to Sylvie and Clive. Pauline was still beside her. Franky saw how everyone looked at Erica, drifted over towards her, and she felt a twinge of jealousy. But then Erica looked up, their eyes met, and she gave a funny twisted grin.

Bridget saw the glance. “Now I know why you seemed busier than usual,” she said, with a painful smile. Franky didn’t reply. “I feel pretty bloody stupid. all that happening under my nose and me not knowing. Oh, and congratulations.”

“What?’

“When is the big move?”

“Oh. In three weeks’ time.” Bridget winced. “Yeah, well,” Franky continued, “Sydney should be sweet …” she stopped. Her voice sounded too bright and and cheery. “Are you alright, Gidge?”

“It’s no longer your concern,” said Bridget, in a voice that was trembling slightly. “Can you tell me something?” 

“What?” Franky realised that Bridget was a bit drunk. She bent closer to her, so Franky could feel her breath on her cheek.

“If it hadn’t been for, you know, her, would you have stayed with me and -?”

At that moment Erica appeared at Franky’s side.

“Erica, this is Bridget.”

The two women didn’t say anything. Erica held out her hand. Bridget didn’t move at first; then, with a puzzled expression, she put her hand into Erica’s. Erica nodded. A desire to giggle rose in Franky’s throat, which she suppressed. She recognised the awkwardness of the situation and decided to diffuse it immediately.

“We’re gonna get going, Bridget,” Franky said awkwardly. She was about to kiss her ex-girlfriend politely on the cheek, but Bridget pulled away and walked to the other side of the room.

“Come on, let’s go,” Franky said, leading Erica from the room. She sketched a half-wave at Pauline and left.

Outside the house, Franky stopped and tuned Erica towards her. She kissed her savagely. Erica slid her arms under Franky’s jacket and shirt and leaned into her. When Franky pulled away, she saw Bridget, still standing at the window and looking out. Their eyes met but Bridget made no gesture.

******

“Do have a second helping of shepherd’s pie, Franky.”

“Ok, sure.”

“And salad. Please have some more salad. I’ve made too much, I know. It’s always so hard to get quantities right, isn’t it? But that’s why the freezer is so useful.”

“That’s cool, I’ll have more.”

Erica’s mother was pink and garrulous with nerves. Her father, taciturn at the best of times, had said almost nothing. He sat at the head of the table and plodded through the lunch.

“Wine?”

“That’d be great, thanks.”

“Erica used to love my shepherd’s pie when she was little, didn’t you, Erica dear?” She was desperate. Erica smiled at her but couldn’t think of anything to say, for, unlike her mother, she became tongue-tied when nervous.

“Did she?” Franky’s face lit up, she was always interested to hear more about Erica. “What else did she like?”

“Meringues.” Erica’s mother’s face sagged with the relief of finding a topic of conversation. “And the crackling on pork. And my blackberry and apple pie. Banana cake. She was always such a slim little thing, you wouldn’t believe how much she could eat.”   
“Yeah, I could.”

Franky put her hand on Erica’s knee underneath the table cloth. Erica blushed. Her father coughed portentously and opened his mouth to speak. Franky’s hand pushed upwards and stroked her upper thigh.

“It seems a bit sudden,” announced Erica’s father.

“Yes,” agreed her mother hurriedly. “We are very pleased, of course we are very pleased, and I am sure that Erica will be very happy, and it’s her life anyway, to do what she wants with, but we thought, why rush? Why not spend another year in Melbourne and then move to Sydney if you’re still keen?”

Franky’s hand moved higher. She put one sure thumb on Erica’s crotch. Erica sat quite still, with a hammering heart and throbbing body.

“I don’t know if or when I’ll get another opportunity at this job,” Franky said. “I wanted Erica to come with me and she wanted to come.” She smiled rather gently at Erica’s mother. “I know this is the first time Erica has had a girlfriend. And I know that’s hard to get used to.” Franky turned her full gaze onto Erica and the blonde felt as if Franky was undressing her in front of her parents. She struggled to remain composed.

“I’ve never been happier than I am now, Mum,” Erica said softly. “Sydney is going to be a great move for us. I promise.”

In Erica’s old bedroom, museum of her childhood, Franky picked up each object as if it was a clue. Swimming certificates. An old teddy bear, with one ear missing. A stack of old, cracked CD covers. A tennis racquet, still standing in the corner of the room by a wicker wastepaper basket she had woven at school. A collection of shells. A porcelain lady, a present from her grandmother when she was about six. A jewellery box with pink silk lining, containing just one necklace.She unrolled a school photograph, 1995, and quickly located Erica’s face, smiling uncertainly from the second row. 

Erica was busying herself looking through a photo album. Franky walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. Before Erica even knew what was happening, Franky wordlessly reached around her front to unbutton the snap on Erica’s jeans. Erica quickly flinched then writhed in Franky’s embrace. Her hands attempted to push away Franky’s wandering fingers. "Franky, no. My parents are downstairs," she argued looking towards the closed door. 

"So?" Franky replied.

“Stop it,” she protested, still trying to prevent Franky from undoing her jeans. “We can’t do anything, they’d hear us.” Franky didn’t waver. Erica tried to move away but Franky was stronger and easily out powered her.

Franky ran her hands up along the front of Erica’s chest and gave her breasts a firm squeeze before tweaking her nipples through her shirt. “You want me to fuck you here,” Franky whispered. “I can tell. It’s ok, we’ll be quick.”

Franky grabbed Erica by the hips than moved her over to the single bed that sat in the corner of the room, a girly pink bedspread still on top of it. She pushed Erica down onto her back and unbuttoned the rest of her jeans and pulled them off her legs. She growled low in her throat once she saw Erica’s black lace panties, "God, you really don't know what you do to me, do you?" 

Franky climbed on top of her lover. Her eyes stared at Erica intently as she sucked two fingers into her mouth, reached in between her legs and swiftly pushed her panties to one side to penetrate her. She started off slow and gentle before gradually increasing her pace, making sure that the palm of her hand rubbed up against Erica’s clit each time to create just enough friction. She pushed Erica’s hair to one side and kissed her neck, “Do you think you can be quiet?” she asked teasingly. 

Erica’s eyes blazed with desire. “Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Keep going.”

Franky knew they would have to be quick but she also knew just how Erica liked to be fucked. She knew exactly where to touch her and which areas drove her the craziest. She knew that if she bit down on a certain part of Erica’s neck the right way, her legs would go a little weak and her body would tremble. Erica’s eyes fluttered closed and she bit down on her lip to try to stifle her moan once Franky found that highly sensitive area with her mouth, "Tell me again that you want me to stop,” Franky said.

Erica didn’t respond, but she quickly put Franky’s face in her hands and passionately enveloped her in a fierce kiss. It was hard and fast, full of desire and urgency. It wasn't until Franky briefly tasted her own blood that she realized Erica had bitten her lip. Franky didn’t care. If Erica’s parents were to notice it later then they could think what they pleased.

Franky broke free of Erica’s embrace and moved downwards, placing open mouthed kisses along her stomach.She peeled off the black panties and Erica parted her thighs, allowing Franky to quickly attach her mouth to her. Franky began licking Erica’s clit, causing the blonde to grind herself firmly against Franky’s face. “Oh god," Erica panted in a breathless whisper.

Using both hands, Franky spread Erica open wider and buried her face into her sex. Erica responded by pressing herself further into Franky’s mouth and she cooed softly when Franky gave her one long, lingering, upward lick with her tongue. She lightly nibbled on Erica’s clit before pushing two fingers inside her. Erica’s body shuddered. Franky’s mouth and tongue returned to Erica’s clit and she began thrusting her fingers in and out of Erica at a rapid pace. She applied as much pressure as she could with her tongue until she felt the muscles in Erica’s body tense up and her thighs tighten around her neck. 

Erica tried to hold her orgasm off but the more she did, the stronger and more intense it became until she finally erupted. And with her legs still shaking, she screamed her release into a pillow until Franky’s mouth was filled with her sweet nectar. When her orgasm finally subsided, Franky climbed off the bed and allowed Erica to gather herself.

“Do you think they would have heard me?” Erica asked as she pulled her jeans back up.

“We’ll soon find out,” Franky said with a grin before taking hold of Erica’s hand and leading her out of the bedroom. “Good news is, you’ll be able to tell your mum I’ve had plenty to eat.”


	15. Chapter 15

After she had had her final work day in Melbourne, Franky had just a few loose ends to tie up before the big move. The first was by far the toughest.

Bridget had arranged to be there when Franky turned up with a rented van to collect the rest of her things. She didn’t particularly want them, but she didn’t want to have them in Bridget’s house either, as if one day she might return to that life.

Bridget made her a cup of coffee, but stayed in the kitchen, bent ostentatiously over a folder of work, which Franky was sure she hardly looked at. Bridget had washed her hair that morning and was wearing a shirt that Franky had picked out for her. Franky looked away, tried not to see her tired, clever, familiar face.

Franky was as businesslike as possible. She stashed clothes into plastic bags, wrapped glasses in newspaper and put them into the cardboard boxes she had brought along, pulled books off the shelves and then closed the gaps that marked where they had been. She loaded the chair she’d had when she was studying into the van, an old sleeping bag, some headphones.

“I’ll leave my plants, shall I?” she asked Bridget.

“If you’d prefer.”

“Yeah, thanks. And if there’s anything I’ve overlooked …”

“I can ship it up to Sydney for you,” Bridget said.

There was a silence. Franky swallowed the tepid remains of her coffee, then said. “Bridget, I’m fucking sorry. There’s nothing I can say except sorry.”

Bridget looked at her steadily, then smiled, a thin smile. “I will be fine, Franky,” she said then. “I was hurt, but I’ll be fine. Will you be fine?”

“Of course I will,” Franky said with a friendly smile.

She had thought of driving to Boomer’s place and leaving all the stuff she didn’t need there, but just as she didn’t want things to be waiting for her at Bridget’s she didn’t want them to be waiting for her anywhere at all. She was beginning again, fresh. She had a giddy sense of burning off her past. She stopped at the first Oxfam shop she saw and gave the astonished assistant everything: books, clothes, glasses, headphones and even her chair.

******

Franky had also arranged to see Clive. On her last day of work he had insisted they get together before she moved to Sydney. They met for lunch at a dark little tavern in Brunswick. They kissed each other awkwardly on the cheek, like amiable strangers, then sat at a small table by a fire and ordered steaks with diane sauce and two glasses of house red.

“How’s Gail?” Franky asked.

“Oh, probably alright. I haven’t seen her that much since her birthday party, actually.”

“Do you mean it’s over?”

Clive grinned ruefully at Franky, a flash of the Clive she knew so well. “Yeah, probably, God, you know how hopeless I am with relationships, Franky. I fall in love, then as soon as it gets serious I panic.”

“Poor Gail.”

“I didn’t come to talk about that.” He took a bite of his steak.

“You wanted to talk to me about Erica, right?”

“Right.” He drank some wine, took another bite of steak, then said, “Now that I’m here, I don’t know how to say it. This isn’t about Bridget, okay? It’s … well, I met Erica remember? It’s bloody unbelievable to think now that I asked her out right before all this happened.” Franky chuckled uncomfortably. It seemed like an eternity ago that Clive had told them at The Vine that he was interested in a woman named Erica Davidson. “I know when she’s in a room that every other woman fades away. But are you sure you know what you’re doing, Franky?”

“Nuh,” Franky said without reservation. “But that doesn’t matter.”

“What does that mean?”

“Literally, it doesn’t matter.” Franky found that for the first time since she and Erica got together she wanted to talk about how she felt. “Look, Clive, I just fell utterly in love with her. Have you ever desired and been desired so much that -“

“No.”

“It was like an earthquake.”

“You used to make fun of me for saying things like that. You used words like “trust” and ‘responsibility”. You used to say” - he pointed his fork at Franky - “that only idiots said things like “it just happened” _or_ “it was like an earthquake”.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Clive looked at Franky with a clinical interest. “How did you get together?” he asked.

“We saw each other on a street.”

“And that was that?”

“Yep.”

“You just saw each other and leapt into bed?”

“Yep.”

“It’s just lust, Franky. You can’t throw away your whole life for lust.”

“Fuck off, Clive.” He seemed to accept that as a reasonable answer. So Franky continued, “Erica is everything. I’d do anything for her. And I’m not throwing my life away for fuck’s sake. I’m still working for Flintoff and Jones, it’s just I’ll be in Sydney now.”

Clive laughed. “Ok, ok, I get it. I’m just checking up on you that’s all.”

“No need, mate. I’m happy.” She took a sip of her wine. “This lunch is on you by the way, I’ll shout when you come and visit me in Sydney,” she smiled and gave Clive a wink. Clive smiled back. He had been appeased.

******

Pauline’s pregnancy was beginning to show, and her face, normally so pale and severe, looked plump and rosy. Her dark hair, which she usually tied back, fell on to her shoulder. She looked young and pretty and happy. She and Franky were shy with each other, courteous and making an effort. Franky tried to remember what they used to talk about when they saw each other back in the pre-Erica days: everything and nothing, she supposed; casual bits of gossip, hushed confidences, intimate inanities which were like verbal acts of affect. They used to giggle. Be silent. Argue and make up. This evening, however, they had to work hard to keep their conversation from flagging, and whenever the was a pause one of them would rush to fill it.

They went to a film then went to a pub. Pauline had tomato juice and Franky had gin. They discussed the bad film rather tamely, until suddenly Franky couldn’t bear it any longer. “How’s Bridget?” Franky asked.

“All right,” Pauline said blankly.

“No, I _really_ mean how is she. I want to know.

Pauline looked at Franky shrewdly. Franky didn’t look away, or smile meaninglessly, and when Pauline spoke it felt like a kind of victory for something. “The plan was that you two were going to be together forever, have children. Then it all changed. She told me that everything was going well and that it came out of the blue. Is that true?”

Franky nodded. “Pretty much.”

“She was so wrong about you.” Franky didn’t speak. “She was, wasn’t she? Did you love her?”

Franky thought back to the distant days of her and Bridget. “Of course I did. And I loved you. We were like a big family. I think I thought the same as she did. I felt I was betraying you as well. I still think that. Now I feel like an outsider when I’m with you.”

“That’s what its all about, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Being an outsider. Choosing the sexy blonde goddess and giving everything up for her. Great fantasy.” Pauline’s voice was flat and faintly contemptuous.

“That’s not how it is.”

“Has anyone told you that you look different from three months ago?”

“No, they haven’t.”

“Well, you do.”

“How?”

Pauline looked at Franky reflectively with an almost hard expression. Franky wondered whether she was hitting back at her.

“You look a bit thinner,” she said. “You’re dressing differently.You’re dressing more casually, more grundgy, like you did years ago when I first met you. Three months ago you seemed ordered and composed. Now” - she stared at Franky, and Franky all of a sudden felt slightly self-conscious - “you look a bit, well, wild.”

“I’m not composed,” Franky said, truculently. “I don’t think I ever was. But you, on the other hand, look great.”

Pauline smiled a smile of contained satisfaction. “It’s the pregnancy,” she purred. “You should try it sometime.”

When Franky got home Erica was asleep. Franky threw off her clothes and jumped in the shower. She thought back on the night and was satisfied. At the very least she felt like she and Pauline were now at peace with each other. She had to remember that Pauline was Bridget’s sister. There was no way she would ever give Franky her approval or wish her well. Civility was the best she could hope for and she had achieved that.

She climbed into bed and spooned herself behind Erica, warm and clean, smelling of soap. She put her hands on Erica’s breasts and kissed her neck. 

“How was it?” Erica murmured.

“Ok. I’m glad to be home.”

******

ONE WEEK LATER

******

It was a Saturday afternoon. Erica, hands filled with grocery bags, entered the trendy little apartment in Surry Hills that she and Franky had a leased. Franky was in the kitchen drinking a beer. She jumped up and and helped Erica unpack everything. She took Erica’s coat off and rubbed her fingers, which were cramped from carrying the bags back from the supermarket. She put the ready-roasted chicken and the different cheeses in the fridge. She poured Erica a glass of wine, placed it on the counter then wrapped her arms around her.

“I missed you,” Franky said and kissed the side of Erica’s jaw.

“I was only gone an hour,” Erica replied with a smile.

“Oh. Yeah,” Franky chuckled. Her hands slid down and cupped Erica’s buttocks. She held her very tightly, kissed her neck. “Your skin feels all silky today.” She kissed Erica’s eyelids, then started very slowly to undo the buttons on her shirt. Erica stood quite still as Franky took the shirt off. Then Franky undid Erica’s bra and took that off as well.

“Careful, Franky, the curtains are open. Someone could see us.”

“Does that bother you?”

Erica shook her head, no. “Take of your jeans. And your knickers,” Franky commanded. Erica did.

Franky’s fingers crept up Erica’s thigh and met bare, slick heat. “I’ve never performed in front of a Sydney audience before,” Franky said.

Erica bit her lip to keep from giggling. She failed, laughing so hard that Franky couldn’t help but laugh with her.

“Don’t you want to put on a show?” Franky teased.

Erica wrapped her arms tightly around Erica’s neck. She reached up so her mouth was millimetres away from Franky’s. “Shut up and fuck me,” she whispered.

Franky licked the corner of Erica’s mouth and pushed two fingers inside her. “If you say so.”

Erica moaned as Franky moved in and out, picking up speed when Erica’s body rippled with pleasure. She kissed her all over - her forehead, her nose, the point of her nipple. The last one made Erica jump delightfully and Franky felt her tighten around her fingers. She slipped another finger in and Erica slammed her hands down on the countertop.

“Want to go to the bedroom” Franky asked her, panting against her throat.

Erica shook her head. She looked at Franky, her eyes completely electrified, begging for more. “I want you to fuck me here, in the kitchen. Where anyone could see.” Erica’s hands roughly pulled off Franky’s shirt and she nearly ripped off her bra. She held Franky’s breasts in her hands, occasionally letting her thumbs graze the nipples. Franky kept fucking her earnestly, rubbing her clit with her thumb. 

Erica continued to moan loudly into Franky’s shoulder. Franky fucked her harder with her fingers until Erica was too overcome to keep touching her. She closed her eyes and leant her head back while Franky bent her head down, licking and biting Erica’s delicious nipples. Erica trembled and Franky could tell she was close. Franky sped up and applied more pressure to her clit.

“Oh, God,” Erica groaned. “Please. Wait.”

“Are you gonna come?” Franky asked, running her nose up Erica’s cheek and inhaling the scent of her perfume mixed with the saltiness of her flesh. She licked her lips and pressed them to Erica’s ear. “You gonna come all over my fingers?”

Franky felt Erica grow wetter as her she squeezed Franky’s fingers rhythmically. She let out a sharp gasp and then cried, “Yes. Oh, god, yeah.”

Roughly kissing Erica’s neck. Franky rammed her fingers in harder. Erica writhed between Franky and the counter. All that held her up were Franky’s fingers insider her and Franky’s other arm wrapped around her waist. She came hard, screaming loudly and unashamedly. Franky helped Erica ride out the orgasm for as long as possible. She relished the feeling of her fingers being coated again and again with Erica’s sweet nectar.

A few minutes later, Erica floated down to earth. Her heavy eyelashes flicked up and she pinned Franky with an almost feral stare. Her face approached Franky’s slowly. She kissed her passionately, then took her hand and led her to the bedroom. Erica pushed Franky down onto the bed. Franky smiled up at her. She loved seeing Erica overwhelmed by passion and aggressively going after what she wanted.

Erica tore off Franky’s jeans and panties and tossed them over her shoulder. She climbed on top of Franky, kissing her deeply. Her full, damp lips travelled down, over Franky’s throat, skimming across her collarbone, down to her breasts where her mouth lingered. Her eyes caught Franky’s as her tongue slipped out slowly and ran against Franky’s nipple. It had been hard before, but now it was almost painfully so. 

Erica clamped down on the nipple, sucking it with relentless passion. When she had given it the required attention, she moved on to the other breast. Franky’s hips began lifting on their own accord, not-so-subtly hinting to Erica at what she wanted. Erica obliged, moving her hand down and using her finger to carefully separate Franky’s slick folds, just grazing the edge of her clit. Then she pushed it inside. Franky moaned and reached for Erica’s blonde hair, tugging on it gently.

Erica brought her mouth to Franky’s so they should share a passionate kiss as she explored her. Another finger joined the one, probing deeper. She pulled back, panting even harder than Franky was, and watched her lover’s face as she slipped another finger and increased her speed.

"Shall I put my mouth on you?" Erica asked. The hand between Franky’s thighs moved away.

Franky kept thinking "please, please, please" but she couldn't even get the words out. Erica obviously knew what her lover wanted and smirked as she bent down for another kiss. 

She took mercy on Franky and crept down her body, her tongue sliding out to lick here and there. When she got to Franky’s right hipbone, she swirled her tongue around in tiny, wet circles. She sucked in Franky’s skin and then released it. Franky stared down her body at Erica, hypnotized by the sparks in her eyes. Erica watched Franky watch her. Then she dipped her tongue into Franky’s wetness. The sight was so erotic Franky nearly came right then.

Erica ran her tongue across Franky’s lips in long glides, always managing to skip her clit. Franky grabbed onto the sheets and chased Erica’s mouth with her hips every time the blonde pulled away to chuckle teasingly. 

Franky’s hands couldn't take it anymore and frantically reached for her own breasts. Her nipples were desperately hard, and when she twisted them between her fingers a delicious chill went through her body. 

Erica continued to go down on her. She moaned into Franky’s flesh and worked her tongue inside. Franky couldn't take it anymore and began pleading - something she had never done before. She had no idea what words and promises poured forth from her in those pleasure-wracked moments; she just knew Erica kept fucking her with her tongue. She continued dragging her to the precipice of orgasm and then she would pull back. It was maddening.

After what felt like an eternity, Erica’s fingers went to Franky’s clit. Everything tightened.

Erica took her mouth away. "Wanna come for me, baby?"

"Fuck. Yes."

Erica licked her finger which was covered in Franky’s wetness. "Will you come for me?” she asked.

"Yeah. Mm, yeah."

Erica disappeared from between Franky’s thighs. Franky would have protested had Erica not positioned herself so that her soft, wet pussy moved against Franky’s. Erica moved on her quickly but carefully, grinding herself against Franky’s clit. Erica’s milky white skin pushed against Franky’s tanned thighs. It was all too much. With one last thrust against her clit, Franky was coming like she'd never come before. Her cries were hardly recognizable. 

Somewhere amidst her bliss, Erica had returned to crouching between Franky’s legs. She fucked Franky with her tongue tortuously fast. Then she soothed her with it, caressing her as she came down.

“Holy fuck,” Franky said when she finally got her breath back.

Erica gave Franky one last lick before joining her at the top of the bed. Franky reached for one of Erica’s breasts, pinching a nipple. Erica’s breath hitched. She opened her mouth to say something but Franky reached over and took the nipple into her mouth, running her tongue over it. Erica groaned and fisted Franky’s hair. 

Franky pulled away, smiling wide. "I've created a monster,” she said.

Erica laughed. "Are you sorry?"

“No way," Franky said immediately, reaching up to kiss her. She sucked Erica’s bottom lip into her mouth before letting go and rolling back onto the bed. She stretched out on the sheets, feeling relaxed and wonderful. Erica had given that to her. Her hand went to Erica’a thigh, encouraging the blonde to roll on to her side and hook her leg around Franky’s firm body. 

Entwined like that, both women closed their eyes. “I love you,” Erica whispered into Franky’s ear as they drifted into a luxurious slumber.

“Love you too, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much who has read this story and left kudos and comments. It was my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic and it was an enjoyable challenge. I apologise for the rushed finish, I had originally planned to write a few more chapters about Frerica living together in Sydney but with Season 4 starting so soon I decided to finish. I hope to write more Frerica in the future, whether it be a sequel to Trading Places, a new multi-chapter, or more one shots. Hope everyone enjoys Wentworth S4!  
> \- Cheers, Willa_Owl.


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